A Change of Plans
by emeraldorchids
Summary: Miranda Priestly's world is turned upside down when she is diagnosed with breast cancer. Andrea proves to be an unexpected companion throughout her treatment & recovery, a loyal friend if she ever had one. (Set after Paris; Andy never left; NO character death; eventual Mirandy.) WARNING: no violence/abuse, but may be emotional/triggering-think before you read.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the main characters, etc., etc., etc.**

**Chapter 1**

Miranda walked slower than usual today, her mind preoccupied. Emily had already left to pick up something from Hermes, so Andrea was standing at the elevator, waiting to greet Miranda and go through the day's schedule.

As the elevator doors dinged, Miranda slowly pushed herself away from the back wall where she had been leaning. "Good morning, Miranda," Andrea said with a cheerful smile. "Your appointments have all been confirmed, Emily will be back shortly with the belts from Hermes."

Miranda raised her hand to Andrea, silencing her instantly. "I can't—not today," she said, handing the schedule back to Andrea and walking directly into her office without removing her coat and bag. Andrea watched as Miranda walked into her office, sitting in her chair with her coat on.

"Andrea," she said, "don't just stand there staring at me. Come in or don't."

Andrea quickly stepped into Miranda's office. "I can reschedule your morning for you if you need," she said, unsure of what was going on with Miranda.

Miranda looked up at Andrea, trying to read her expression. Deciding she could trust her, she continued, "I need to see my doctor, my gynecologist, this morning. Reschedule everything today. I don't know—I—I will probably work from home this afternoon."

"Miranda, is everything okay?" Andrea asked, unable to help herself. Miranda glared at the young woman, giving her that what-do-you-think look. "Oh!" Andrea said, "I'm sorry, of course. I will call. Should I tell them anything specific? Is this an emergency?"

Miranda sighed, realizing Andrea did, in fact, need that information. Looking down at her hands in her lap, she said, "I found a lump this morning," her voice barely a whisper.

Andrea inhaled sharply, realizing the reason for Miranda's strange mood: she was scared. "I'll call right now," she said, rushing out to her desk and dialing Miranda's doctor. In less than five minutes, Andrea returned to Miranda's office. The editor hadn't moved from her seat, still staring down at her hands.

"Miranda, Dr Barry can see you at 8, before her first patient. Your appointments today have all been postponed or rescheduled," she said, "And Roy is downstairs." Andrea watched as Miranda looked at the clock on her computer screen. It was 7:35. Miranda slowly pushed herself from her chair, readjusting her coat before picking up her bag. As she walked out to the outer office, Andrea met her, also with her coat and bag.

Miranda eyed Andrea suspiciously. "I don't recall asking you to come with," she said, walking to the elevators.

"I, uh, need Roy to take me to that place with the scarves you like, and Emily is on her way back with the other driver, so it will be more efficient," Andrea said, hoping that Miranda wouldn't question "that place with the scarves you like" since Andrea had just made it up. She knew Miranda was scared, and, well, she didn't have any friends, so Andrea thought she would step in.

Miranda simply nodded as Andrea followed her to the elevator, staying several feet behind her. The door opened, and Miranda stepped in. "In the spirit of efficiency," she said, gesturing for the woman to join her.

Andrea quickly stepped inside and stood a distance from Miranda, furiously typing a message to Emily, alerting her that they wouldn't return until later.

The rode in silence to Dr Barry's office, Miranda fidgeting quite a bit. When they arrived, Roy opened the door and Andrea stepped out, following Miranda. "I thought—" Miranda said, questioningly.

"No, I lied. I'm coming with you," Andrea said, unsure of where her sudden boldness came.

"Oh," Miranda said, trying to hide her relief that she would not be alone.

Andrea shrugged and followed Miranda up to the doctor's office. "Ms Priestly," the nurse said the minute they stepped into the waiting room. "Come with me, we were expecting you." Miranda looked over her shoulder as she followed the nurse into the back room.

"I'll wait here," Andrea said as the door closed behind Miranda. Andrea couldn't imagine what Miranda must be going through—the thoughts that must be running through her mind.

"Miranda," Dr Barry said, "I would like to quickly examine you and ask a few questions, then I want you to know we can do a mammogram, ultrasound, and even needle biopsy, if necessary, right here in the office this morning."

"Thank you," Miranda said as she shrugged off her coat and began unbuttoning her blouse.

Dr Barry continued, "There are several types of lumps, most of which are benign, so we just want to find out a little more about this one. Where is it?" she asked, taking Miranda's wrist and gently lifting her arm as she pressed two fingers to Miranda's breast. "Okay, let me just check all over to see if there is something else we should know about. Have your periods been regular?" she asked as she applied pressure to Miranda's breast.

"Yes."

"Have you noticed any swelling that comes and goes with your cycle?"

"No."

"When did your last cycle start?"

"Twelve days ago," Miranda answered matter-of-factly.

"Okay, Miranda, I'd like to do both a mammogram and ultrasound, if that's okay. We can do the ultrasound first, since the mammogram can be quite uncomfortable," Dr Barry said. "I need you to lie back, and raise your right arm above your head," she said, pulling the ultrasound machine closer as Miranda closed her eyes.

Several minutes later, Dr Barry turned the machine off and handed Miranda a warm washcloth to wipe the gel off her breast. "Miranda, I like to have all the facts before I say anything, so if you will come down the hall to imaging, we can do a mammogram." Miranda nodded, draping her coat across her shoulders, covering her bare chest as she took her bra, blouse, and bag in her other hand.

"When was your last mammogram, Miranda?" Dr Barry asked as she situated herself in front of the machine.

"Two years ago. As you know, I have no family history and none of the other risk factors apply," Miranda said. "Can you have someone update my assistant in the waiting room?" Miranda asked. "She understands discretion. You can tell her anything," she added.

"Of course," Dr Barry said, turning to her assistant, who quickly left the room. "Miranda, you've never brought anyone with you before," she said, attempting small talk as she positioned the machine.

"Yes, well, she rather invited herself," Miranda said, chuckling.

"Sounds like she cares about you, Miranda. That's not a bad thing."

"I suppose," Miranda said.

"Now, this might be painful," Dr Barry said, "You will feel uncomfortable pressure. Let me know if it is unbearable." Miranda nodded and Dr Barry continued. "We typically have one of our imaging staff do this, but I can read it much easier if I watch."

Miranda nodded again, closing her eyes. The exam was finished after several minutes, and Dr Barry stepped out while Miranda put her clothes back on. Dr Barry walked out into the waiting room, immediately recognizing the young brunette as Miranda's assistant.

"Hi," she said, extending her hand, "I'm Liz Barry. I need to go over Miranda's results, and I think you should be there."

"Oh," Andrea said, shaking her hand politely. "I'm Andrea. I don't know that Miranda will want that."

"I think she finds it difficult to ask for help," Dr Barry offered. "Please, follow me. She needs you there."

"Oh god," Andrea said, following Dr Barry into her office, "Is it that bad?"

Dr Barry gave Andrea a slight nod, and Andrea took a deep breath as the nurse led Miranda to Dr Barry's office.

Miranda did not acknowledge Andrea sitting next to her, but she was secretly glad she was there, if for nothing more than the fact that she would not have to repeat everything to answer Andrea's incessant questioning.

"Miranda," Dr Barry began, "I took some time to review your tests, and I am very glad you came in when you did. The lump on your right breast is small, but the exams today have not been conclusive in determining whether it is benign or not. I would like to do a biopsy, today if possible. We can have results to you by the end of the day."

Miranda nodded, "Yes, today is possible," she said. "Elizabeth, can you give me your honest opinion?" Miranda asked.

"You want me to tell you what I think it is?" she said, "Of course. Now you know that I need to do more tests before I can say with any certainty, however, in my opinion and based on my experience with this, it is probably stage one breast cancer."

Andrea reached over and took Miranda's hand, squeezing it tightly. Miranda closed her eyes, and Andrea could see her struggling to keep tears away. "When can you do the biopsy?" Andrea asked.

"Right away, if she's ready."

"And it's safe to perform that here in your office? Isn't that typically an outpatient procedure?" Andrea asked.

"My office is attached to the surgery center, so while you are correct that it is typically an outpatient procedure, I have the ability to utilize the surgery center's facilities without leaving the building. Miranda is in good hands, I can assure you," she said.

"What about a lumpectomy? Doesn't it make sense to remove it before biopsy?"

"No, not necessarily," Dr Barry replied. "Lumpectomies can be complicated, and that is not an in-office procedure. We like to keep the number of major surgeries as low as possible," she said. "Miranda? Are you ready?" she asked.

Andrea squeezed her hand tightly before letting go. Miranda nodded and stood, ready to follow Dr Barry out the door. "Andrea can come with you," she said, gesturing to the brunette to follow. They walked down several long corridors before finally reaching what looked like a sterile environment. "Miranda, I need you to change into this gown," she said, handing her a paper-like cotton gown before leaving the room. Miranda removed her jacket and handed it to Andrea, along with her bag. She quickly unbuttoned her blouse, handing that to Andrea as well, who was trying very hard not to look up at her boss's body. Miranda turned around, unclasping her bra as she slipped into the gown, handing the bra to Andrea as well before climbing onto the table.

Andrea neatly hung Miranda's items on the hooks along the wall as they waited for the doctor. In no time at all, Dr Barry was applying a topical anesthesia to Miranda's breast and inserting a long needle into the lump. Miranda's left hand tightly clenched the edge of the table, and Andrea slid her chair closer, taking Miranda's hand in her own.

"That's it, Miranda," Dr Barry said, applying a small bandage to the area before she stood. "I will call you immediately with the results, but I want you to go home and rest today. Your breast will be tender once the anesthetic wears off. Try and keep it supported with a sports bra or tight tank, anything without an underwire. Oh, and elevated levels of stress are not good for the body, so please, I know it will be difficult, but I need you to relax," she added.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Miranda said as she sat up. Andrea handed her her bra, blouse, and then draping her coat over her shoulders. Andrea walked Miranda through the halls, her hand resting on the small of Miranda's back, until they reached the exit, where Roy was waiting with the towncar. Miranda slipped into the backseat and Andrea ran to the other side to climb in as well.

As they rode in silence, Andrea turned to look at Miranda. Her lip was quivering as tears pooled against the bottom of her Prada sunglasses. Andrea reached her hand over, covering Miranda's own hands in her lap.

"I know you're scared, but let's wait until Dr Barry gets your results," Andrea whispered as she softly rubbed her thumb across the back of the woman's hand, "it's okay, I'm a little scared, too," she said. Andrea felt Miranda's body quivering next to her as she rested her head on Andrea's shoulder, quietly sobbing the rest of the way home.

TBC or not TBC?

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**A/N/Warning: I have lost many people in my life to various cancers, and have recently seen some very close to me go through treatment for breast cancer (they're survivors now, yay!), but while this story is from my perspective, I want to note that I understand experiences vastly differ, and not all have good outcomes (there will be no character death in this story, fyi), I respect that and would never want something like this to upset any readers. That being said... I already have an outline in the works, but I'm anticipating this being a longer story, with no real Mirandy until much much later. I appreciate any comments you may have... please r/r & let me know if you think it's worth continuing! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's spent time reviewing, messaging, or sharing a personal story... I only hope this story can live up to the expectations, now. But seriously, thank you... I hope you keep reading. I have another update ready for tomorrow or maybe even later tonight. Reviews always appreciated! xo

* * *

At the townhouse, Miranda went straight for her bedroom to "lie down," but Andrea knew better. She fixed a small plate of fruit, greek yogurt, and granola and brought it upstairs along with a mug of steaming hot green tea. Softly knocking on Miranda's bedroom door, she stepped inside, despite Miranda's lack of answer. Andrea looked around the room for the woman, but she was not there. "Miranda?" Andrea called, setting the tray on the dresser, "I brought you breakfast and some hot tea." Andrea paused, hearing sniffling coming from the bathroom. "Miranda? Are you okay?" she called out.

"Go away!" Miranda said.

Andrea tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Miranda, don't do this," she said as she used her thumbnail to turn the lock from the outside and open the door.

"Andrea, I said 'go away,'" Miranda said. She was curled up on the marble floor next to her bathtub, facing the doorway, still in her Gucci skirt and Theory blouse.

"Ar—Are you okay?" Andrea asked quietly. It was quite a shock to see the editor on the floor like that, blank expression clouding her eyes as she didn't bother trying to hide her face.

"What do you think?!" Miranda snapped back. "I don't need you, despite whatever you're thinking."

Stunned at the harsh words, Andrea took a few steps back, shutting the door before heading downstairs, gathering her things, and walking out the front door, slamming it loudly so Miranda would hear upstairs. She knew she wasn't needed at work for a while, so she took a detour through the park, stopping at the first bench she found.

Andrea tried to understand what was going on—just a few months ago, Miranda had opened up to her in Paris about the divorce, and while she wasn't accepting of any sympathy then, the mere fact that she allowed Andrea in her presence that night was telling of the trust Miranda had in her. Even once they returned, she trusted that Andrea would do a good job and as long as Andrea did, it was perfect. And now, this. Breast cancer in and of itself was terrifying. Top that with a career-driven workaholic woman who has no husband and no friends, and it's rather unfathomable. Despite Miranda's harsh words this afternoon, Andrea knew that those were just words, words uttered out of a dark place, a place from where it is easier to push others away than admit to needing help. Perhaps a little time to herself could be good, she thought, though she wondered how Miranda would handle the test results when Dr Barry called.

"I'll have them call me first!" she said aloud, reaching down to her phone and dialing Dr Barry's office number. "Hi, this is Andrea Sachs—I was in this morning with Miranda Priestly…yes, yes…Miranda is resting at the moment, would it be possible for you to call me first when the results come in. I want to ensure Miranda is comfortable and not otherwise occupied when the doctor calls her…Yes, that's wonderful…closer to six?…that's fine. Oh, and can you email me any follow-up instructions or anything for her?… Great. Thank you so much, goodbye!" Andrea smiled, proud of herself for once again going out of her way to make Miranda most comfortable, because when it came down to it, she had grown to care about the woman who made her life hell.

Sighing, she dialed Emily's number, knowing she needed to check in with the office and see if she could bring anything back on her way to _Runway. _

"Andrea, where have you been?! Nigel is going crazy. Angela needs Miranda's decision on the layout by tonight. Jocelyn can't find the Stuart Weitzman pieces, and Serena can't understand why Miranda cancelled their meeting with Jason Wu. What in bloody hell is going on?" Emily said.

"Em, I'll tell you a little more when I get back. Miranda is working from home for the rest of the day, though I doubt she's checking emails. I will have to stop back there later this afternoon, so tell Angela I'll take over whatever we need. Do you need anything while I'm out? Water? Cheese?" Andrea asked.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you. No, I don't need a thing. Is Miranda coming in tomorrow—I see you marked it tentative in her calendar?"

"I don't know yet. I'll try and find out later tonight. See you in twenty minutes!" she said, hanging up the phone.

Upstairs, Emily was busy putting a bag of items together for Andrea to take over to the townhouse when she goes. If they were lucky, the Book might be ready, too. It was amazing how productive the staff was when they weren't tied up in meetings or preparing for meetings.

Andrea stepped off the elevator into an unusually quiet hallway of _Runway _offices, which was exactly what she needed. She hadn't stopped all day to think about herself, and while that was fine, she felt like she needed a good cry.

"So, what was so urgent that Miranda couldn't come in today?" Emily asked as Andrea sat down in her desk. "And," she added, "why did you get dragged along?"

Andrea took a deep breath, slowly taking her coat off before answering. "Come here," she said, taking Emily's wrist and dragging her into Miranda's office, closing the door. "You know she will fire me if I tell you, Em," Andrea said, "but I—I need to tell you a little. Just to tell someone," she said, sinking into one of the chairs in Miranda's office.

"Oh my god, did she hurt you, Andy?" Emily asked, sitting next to her and putting her hand awkwardly on Andrea's knee.

"No, no, nothing like that," she said. "She had a health-related scare…well, not really just a scare, but an issue. She was at the doctor's office this morning, and they are supposed to call her back this evening with conclusive test results," Andrea said.

Emily slowly nodded, "I know you can't say anymore, but I guess it's serious or you wouldn't look so pale. Did she actually ask you to come with?"

"No. God no. I made up some excuse about needing Roy to drop me somewhere near her doctor's office, but Em, she was terrified." Andrea leaned down, dropping her head to her hands. "I've never seen her like that. I told you about that one night in Paris—that was nothing compared to today. She actually let me hold her hand."

A pang of jealousy shot through Emily; she understood how easy it was to care about the silver-haired editor. She'd known Miranda for almost two years, and in all that time, Miranda has never once had lunch with a friend. "You've certainly got more courage than me," Emily said. "I'm always to bloody worried about upsetting her, I just do what I'm told."

"Hey," Andrea said, "don't think like that. You know Miranda is going to need both of us, and we all know you can handle _Runway_-related things better than anyone. Ever since I've started I sort of took on all the personal tasks while you did more work-related things." Sighing, she added, "we need to work together now more than ever."

"You said she didn't receive conclusive results yet, though…?" Emily questioned.

"There's still a chance she's totally fine, but it's really slim. Either way, I know she won't come back the same person. We both need to be prepared," Andrea said.

Emily nodded, standing up and heading back to her desk. "Hey, we don't have anything going on today. I wouldn't care if you needed to step out or whatever, I could text you when the Book is ready."

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to head over there now. If I'm this anxious, I can only imagine her, and the twins will be home from school shortly, so—"

"Hey ladies," Patrick said, interrupting their conversation. "Here's the Book. Record time today. I love the woman to death, but I can't get a stitch of work done when she keeps sending me emails every five minutes. Have a good night, ladies!"

"Bye Patrick, thanks!" Emily said as he walked off down the hallway. "Looks like you can head out," she added.

Andrea nodded, slipping the Book into her tote, along with several file folders Miranda needed. "I'm going to see if there's anything that might be more comfortable in the Closet," she said, rushing down the hallway. Andrea found some Lululemon athletic wear, pants, tops, running tanks, and a pair of Marc Jacobs 'velvet mouse' slippers in her size, just in case she didn't feel like wearing heels, Andrea thought.

Gathering the items into a spare _Runway_ tote, she picked up her tote and her cell and headed out the elevators, Emily wishing her a silent 'good luck' on her way.

Andrea took a cab to Miranda's, for once, not wanting to be bothered with the strangers on the subway. As she walked up the steps to the townhouse, she took a deep breath, unsure of what to expect. "Miranda?" she called out, never knowing where the woman was in the house.

"In here," she said, the voice coming from upstairs. Andrea brought her bags upstairs, and found Miranda sitting on a couch in her study. Miranda had several large books open, and as Andrea got closer, she realized they were actually Caroline & Cassidy's scrapbooks.

"I, uh have the Book, and a few items you need to look at today—layouts and such," Andrea said.

Miranda closed the book and set it on the floor with the others. Removing her glasses, she sank back into the couch. "Caroline and Cassidy will be home from school shortly," she said.

Andrea wasn't sure why Miranda was telling her—was she supposed to leave before they showed up? After a few moments, Miranda continued, "I don't know what to tell them."

Andrea quietly exhaled, relieved Miranda was not kicking her out just yet. "Have you, um, heard back?" she asked quietly.

"No."

"Oh okay. Probably best to tell them when you know more," Andrea offered.

"Yes, but I don't think they've ever seen me home this early before."

"Say you had a headache. I'm sure it's not totally false."

Miranda raised an eyebrow as she looked Andrea in the eyes for the first time this afternoon. Reaching up and placing her eyeglasses back on, she held her hand out, "What is it I need to approve?" Her assistant quickly handed her the files and the red pen she kept at her desk. Miranda flipped through a few pages, made a few marks, then handed it back. "A few minor details for Angela. What else?"

"Serena was concerned about your meeting with Jason Wu," Andrea said.

"Ah, yes, we have been postponing that for about six weeks, haven't we? Will you see if they are available now for a quick conference call? I don't want him thinking we're ignoring him," Miranda said.

Andrea pulled out her phone and texted Serena: _Conf call w Jason Wu— calling his asst now._

Then, she dialed his assistant and walked to the other side of the room as she explained the arrangement to her. "Miranda, he's available for the next fifteen minutes, will that work?"

Miranda nodded, and Andrea confirmed the call-in number with the assistant before hanging up and sending Serena another quick text. Miranda stood and walked over to her desk to make the call, while Andrea grabbed the layouts and stepped out of the the room, shutting the door behind her. While she waited, she sat on the top step of the stairs, emailing photos of Miranda's markup and accompanying descriptions to Emily and Angela, checking to see if anything else was needed of the editor.

Just then, she heard the front door open and Miranda's daughters walked in, carrying their schoolbags. "Cara, we're home!" Cassidy shouted. "Cara? Where are you?"

Andrea realized Miranda must have sent their housekeeper home this afternoon when she arrived, so she stood and walked downstairs to meet the twins. "Hi girls," she said softly. "I'm Andy, your mom's assistant."

"We know who you are," Caroline snapped. "What were you doing upstairs?"

"Caroline, your mom is up in the study on an important phone call, please keep your voice down."

"Why is Mom home?" Cassidy asked.

"Your mom had a headache and wasn't feeling well today at work," Andrea explained, "so she came home early. I brought over a few important things for her, but otherwise, she needs to rest. Oh, and your mom must have sent Cara home since she knew we would be here, now, can I get you two a snack before you start on your homework?"

"Is Mom okay?" Caroline asked, a worried expression on her face.

"Yes, Bobbsey, I'm fine," Miranda said, leaning over the banister. "It's just a headache. Andrea will help you with anything you need. I still have a little bit of work to finish up here, but then I'll be down," she said.

"Okay, Mom!" they both replied.

"Andy, can I have an apple and some almond butter?" Cassidy asked.

"Yeah, me too?" Caroline said.

"Sure thing, kiddos. I'll get two plates ready for you if you can get your homework unpacked. If you get your work finished early, who knows, your mom might even be willing to watch a movie with you," Andrea said.

Both girls quickly unpacked and set their books out. Caroline was going through her assignment book, while Cassidy was reading the assigned pages in her History book. Andrea washed and sliced two apples, putting them on separate plates, and placed a spoonful of almond butter and a butter knife on each plate. "Milk okay?" she asked. Both girls nodded, so she poured two small glasses of milk and brought them their snacks. "Let me know if you need help with any of your homework," she said as she walked back upstairs.

The door of the study was ajar, so Andrea gently pushed it open before stepping inside. Miranda was crouched down next to the bookshelf, putting the girls' scrapbooks back in the cabinet. Miranda got up and walked back to the couch, gesturing for Andrea to join her.

"Thank you," Miranda said quietly. "I've been preoccupied today. I shouldn't have sent Cara home."

"It's okay. I can make dinner, too, if you'd like," Andrea offered.

"No, I can't ask you to do that. We will order."

"Really," she said, "it's nothing."

"I do appreciate it, and I'll keep that in mind for the future," Miranda said. The two women sat in silence for several minutes until Miranda spoke again. "I saw the items in the bag you brought," she said. "They do look more comfortable than what I'm wearing," she said.

"Why don't you go change?" Andrea suggested. "Take a shower or something. It's not even five o'clock and the only thing you have to do tonight is look at the Book. I'll stay downstairs with the girls."

"But, I—" Miranda started to object, her eyes quickly glancing at her cell phone.

"If there are any calls for you, I will come upstairs to find you right away," Andrea added.

Once again, Miranda looked into her assistant's eyes, almost in disbelief of the kindness she was being shown. Nodding her head, she stood, took the bag from the Closet, and headed out into her bedroom.

Andrea took her phone and Miranda's phone and went downstairs to sit in the den near the girls, who were both working hard on their homework. She answered a few quick emails, and just as she was about to go grab a glass of water for herself, her phone rang. Miranda's results were in. Andrea asked the nurse to have the doctor call in ten minutes, as she was going upstairs to find Miranda.

"Girls," Andrea said, walking into the kitchen. "We're going to order out tonight—think of what you'd like from Smith & Wollensky."

"I know what I want: fried shrimp," Cassidy said. "Mom always gets a steak, and Caroline usually has the blackened chicken."

"Oh, well, would you be able to order it? Have you done that before?" Andrea asked.

"Of course," Cassidy said. "All the time. Should I call now?"

"Yes, go ahead," she said as she poured a glass of water. "I'm going to go upstairs and see if your mom needs any more help."

"Miranda?" Andrea said, knocking on the bedroom door. "The girls are ordering dinner now. Can I come in?"

The editor opened the door, and Andrea smiled, seeing Miranda in the ensemble she selected, even down to the slippers. "These are very comfortable slippers," Miranda said, looking down at her toes. "Even though I'm not really one for the mouse face. Tomorrow," she said, "Call over to Marc Jacobs and ask them to send a pair in whatever size you take, and a pair each for Caroline & Cassidy in whatever colors you think they'll like."

"Thank you, but I can't accept—"

"Nonsense," Miranda said. "The girls' will be gifts for Valentine's Day, so have them gift wrapped, as well."

Andrea nodded in response, just as Miranda's phone began to ring. Andrea held her breath as she handed the phone to Miranda. Somehow, even though she knew this call was coming right now, it wasn't until the phone actually rang that it all seemed suddenly so real.

"Close the door," Miranda said before she answered, not wanting the girls to hear anything. Andrea motioned to Miranda, asking if she should step out, but Miranda shook her head 'no' as she greeted Dr Barry. "Hello, Elizabeth? I've been expecting your call."

"Yes, hello Miranda. I am sorry to bother you in the evening, but I know you were concerned, so I wanted to speak with you as soon as I knew anything."

"Yes, of course," Miranda said as she began slowly pacing in the bedroom.

"Miranda, the preliminary diagnosis was correct. You have breast cancer," Dr Barry said. "I would like to get you started on a treatment program right away. Because of where it's located and how young you are, I would suggest a mastectomy with reconstruction. If you'd like, we could do a few rounds of radiation beforehand, but the tumor is quite small as it is. Now, your mammogram showed two lymph nodes involved, and it was hard to see, but there may be more. We won't know the extent until surgery, but if it is more than two lymph nodes, I will recommend chemotherapy once every four weeks for six months, along with Herceptin, because of the makeup of this tumor. Now, we can schedule…"

Dr Barry's words floated over Miranda as if she were in a dense fog. She heard the words being spoken to her, but after hearing confirmation that it is breast cancer, her own thoughts grew too loud, drowning out the voice on the phone.

Andrea watched as Miranda froze in place, slowly pulling the phone farther away from her ear as she stared across the room. Seeing Miranda sway, Andrea quickly walked up to her and took the phone from her hand, reaching her other arm out to hold the woman steady.

"Hi Dr Barry? It's Andrea. Thank you for getting back so quickly. Would you be able to email all of this information? I can call first thing in the morning to schedule something, once Miranda has had some time to think about it."

"Yes, Andrea, of course," Dr Barry said, "Is she doing okay?"

"No, I don't think so," Andrea replied, not wanting Miranda to know what she was talking about, not that she was listening.

"I figured as much. I don't like to bring this up right off the bat, but cancers like this, caught early like this, have a very high survival rate. She might go through hell over the next eighteen months, but she _will_ get there."

"Mm-hmm, will do," Andrea said. "Thank you, Dr Barry. We'll speak soon," she said, hanging up the phone. Looking up, she saw tears streaming down Miranda's face as she held one hand up to her mouth, trying to swallow her sobs.

Andrea took Miranda's wrist, gently pulling it away from her mouth as she wrapped her arms firmly around the older woman, guiding her over the edge of the mattress. Miranda climbed onto the bed and curled up into a fetal position, much like the way she was laying earlier, except now she was finally on the bed and not the floor. "Please leave," Miranda said between sobs.

"No," Andrea quickly replied, taking Miranda's hand firmly. "I am staying. We have more to do," she added.

"But…the girls," Miranda cried, "my poor babies."

"They will be okay," Andrea reassured her. "More than anything, they will want you get better. If you'd like, we can call James in the morning," she suggested, surprised that she said 'we' in reference to her and Miranda.

"Yes," Miranda said, sitting up slowly. "They need to be away—from all of this—whatever it is. I won't let them see me like that."

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves," Andrea said. "One day at a time, ok?"

Miranda took a deep breath and nodded, wiping the tears from her face. "I still don't want the girls around this," she said.

"Okay, they don't have to be, I can talk to James," Andrea said. "But they want to see you tonight. Dinner should be here in a few minutes, and they were hoping to watch a movie with you if your headache was better," Andrea said, raising an eyebrow.

Miranda nodded, "And the other items? Something about scheduling?"

"Dr Barry was sending a detailed email. I can forward that and you can call me later so I can make arrangements with the doctor's office," Andrea said. "If you'd rather speak in person…"

"No, telephone is fine. I can't take up all of your time like that."

Andrea smiled, realizing that Miranda Priestly had somehow become her life. She had no time in the day that she didn't think about Miranda. "It's okay," she said, "You can. I don't really have a life outside work, so really, any time, day or night."

"Thank you," she said. "I think I just heard the doorbell."

"I should get going," Andrea said.

"I hope you realize that you're welcome to stay for dinner, Andrea."

"Thank you, but why don't you spend the time with your girls tonight. I'll take a raincheck," she said.

Nodding, Miranda said, "I will call you later this evening, once I've had a chance to read through the email after the girls are in bed."

"No problem. Will you be coming to _Runway _tomorrow?"

Miranda paused for a moment, thinking it strange that her obligations to her job hadn't much crossed her mind. "Yes. I will come in at 10 for a few hours. Schedule a meeting with Nigel for a full hour, and try to fit whatever else into the early afternoon-see if Leslie can come, perhaps. I would like to meet the girls when they return from school again."

"Consider it done. Talk to you later," she said as she stepped out of the bedroom and walked downstairs.

"Girls, did you order dinner? Why don't you set the table—it should be here shortly," Andrea said.

"Are you staying?" Caroline asked.

"No, no. Your mom and I just finished going over her work schedule, so I need to go home and type up a few things. She will be down in a minute. Pick out a good movie tonight, I think your mom could use a laugh."

"Okay, bye Andy!"

"Bye girls!"

Andrea shut the door behind her and walked home, letting the cold night air clear her mind. She had difficulty trying to understand her feelings, to understand why she cared so much for the silver-haired woman. Despite what she would like to think, Andrea knew that Miranda did not _need_ her. She had enough money to hire five nurses and assistants to be with her twenty four hours a day, seven days a week! However, she knew that she could provide her with something more—something more than hired help could provide, even if Miranda did pay her bills.

It was nearly nine o'clock when she arrived at her apartment. After taking a long, hot shower, she hopped on her laptop and did some research. She wasn't familiar with all of the procedures and treatments that Dr Barry discussed, and if she was determined to be the friend Miranda needed—which she was—she needed to do her homework.

Andrea spent the next several hours reading countless articles, watching videos, reading heartfelt stories of other women's journeys. Even though it seemed like she had more questions than answers at the moment, she felt confident knowing Miranda's doctor was both knowledgeable and honest.

As she was tucking her laptop away and turning out the light, her phone buzzed from underneath her pillow: _Are you still awake? -MP_

Andrea smiled as she quickly replied: _You bet. Call me whenever. -A_

The moment she hit send, her phone began to ring. "Hi, Miranda," she said.

"Andrea. I've only had time to take a cursory glance at the email from Elizabeth, but what she says makes sense. I—I read a little about radiation treatment, and, well, honestly, if I have the choice, I would prefer not to."

"Would you like me to schedule the, um," Andrea hesitated, as if saying the word aloud could physically hurt, "mastectomy, then?"

After a few moments of silence, Miranda responded, "Yes."

"Do you have a plastic surgeon or shall I ask Dr Barry to recommend one?"

"Call Dr Joshua Grant," Miranda said.

"I will send emails right now, and follow up with a phone call in the morning. Would it be okay if I could schedule the pre-surgical physical and exam for Friday morning?"

"Yes. Andrea, the sooner the better."

"Understood," she said. "Is there anything else?"

"No," she said. "Well, I suppose you should schedule a meeting with Irv as well tomorrow."

"Of course," Andrea said. "Try and get some rest tonight."

"Yes, well, goodnight," Miranda said.

TBC very soon...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Since I may not have a chance to get to this again until the weekend, I'm giving you another update right away. Thank you again-so much-for the encouragement on this one. I find that I'm writing it very quickly because I really really want to get to some Mirandy parts ;) Please R/R xx

* * *

The next morning, Andrea busied herself making arrangements for Miranda's upcoming exam and surgery. Trying to get both surgeons in the same hospital at the same time next week proved more difficult than she would have imagined. By the time Miranda arrived, though, Andrea handed her an updated schedule. Her exam would be Friday afternoon at 3pm, and, provided there were no other underlying conditions, her surgery would be first thing Monday morning. Andrea smiled, proud that she managed to have everything scheduled so quickly.

"Th—_this_ Monday?" Miranda asked, practically choking on her own saliva as she read the schedule Andrea printed for her.

"Yes," Andrea said, "And you'll see that three and half weeks later—exactly four weeks from tomorrow—you'll begin chemo, and then…by Christmas, you're finished."

"Excellent choice of words, Andrea," Miranda spat out, brushing past the woman and marching into her office.

Andrea did not follow her, instead, walking into the kitchen to pour Miranda a cup of green tea. "Miranda?" she said, walking into the inner office, "Here's your tea. I'm so sorry about before. I—you know I didn't mean that." Andrea hung her head as she softly chewed on her lower lip.

"I know," Miranda said, sighing as she took her glasses off and set them on her desk. "I'm just a little on edge today. I spoke with James last night, and he is meeting me at the townhouse so we can tell the girls together. Now, it looks like they will be moving in with James and his wife as soon as this weekend."

"I can call James and go over any specifics if you'd like," Andrea offered.

"No, I need to do this. But first," Miranda said, sighing and looking over Andrea's shoulder, "I believe I have a meeting with Nigel." Andrea nodded and stepped out of the office, closing the doors and trying to busy herself at her desk.

Nearly an hour later, Nigel stepped out, closing the door behind him. "Hey, Six," he said, "As you probably figured, Miranda has asked me to step in as interim Editor-in-chief while she takes a leave of absence. Emily will report directly to me—I am to fill her in when she returns. Miranda is meeting with Irv later to discuss her leave, and if all goes well, she will still be available for consult throughout her leave, so you will be working either here, for me, or from Miranda's home office, wherever you're most needed." Nigel studied Andrea's face, searching for something that might give her emotions away. "I know Miranda has a tendency to be rather unpleasant," he said, "and while there may be a few occasions that I could actually use a second assistant…you have a choice, Andy."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It's your choice. If you don't want to be reporting to Miranda for the next ten months, that is ultimately your call."

"Is that what Miranda said?" she asked.

"More or less. She won't hold it against you, you know."

"Does she want me there?"

"I can't answer that, but think about it. She would go above and beyond to ensure you weren't there if that was what she wanted."

Nigel had a point. "Thanks, Nigel. I'll speak with her later."

The rest of the day went by much like the morning. Miranda's meeting with Irv was very short, and Andrea imagined Irv was more than supportive of the idea of Miranda taking extended time off, seeing that it was just one step closer to replacing her for good.

When Emily returned from her errands, she was appraised of the situation and spent the remainder of the afternoon working with Andrea to reschedule meetings and appointments with designers. Luckily, they didn't need to bring Nigel up to speed on anything, as he had already been such an influence.

Miranda spent another hour of her afternoon meeting with Leslie to discuss a media strategy for when the news leaked. Around 1:30pm, "Andrea, call Roy," Miranda said as she exited her office. Andrea called the driver while Emily retrieved Miranda's coat and bag, both assistants walking her to the elevator.

Standing, facing the elevator doors, Miranda took a deep breath. "Girls, I will only say this once: I am not dying. I am not in pain. If I see a single look of pity from any of you, you—you can—" she paused as her voice cracked.

"Understood," Emily interjected.

"Good luck tonight," Andrea said.

Miranda turned and said to Andrea, "Lord knows I'll need it," before she stepped into the elevator.

Andrea left early that night. She wasn't quite sure whether she needed to come into the office tomorrow, but somehow, it didn't matter so much. Emily was delivering the book to Nigel's home, but all Andrea could think of was Miranda breaking the news to her precious girls. She knew it wasn't her place to ask, but she wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing how it went.

Picking up her phone, she quickly texted Miranda: _Hi. Your appointment is at 3pm tomorrow and Roy will pick you up. Will you be at home or the office?_

Several minutes later, Andrea received a response: _Ok. I don't expect to return to the office for several months. You will be working here everyday I understand?_

Andrea quickly replied: _Yes—when would you like me over?_

Miranda replied: _Sunday evening—the girls will be gone._

Andrea responded: _Sleep well tonight—call if anything comes up, not that I need to remind you. ;)_

A few minutes later, Miranda responded: _Goodnight, Andrea. _

The next few days flew by. At nine o'clock on Sunday, Andrea arrived at the townhouse with a small tote. Miranda didn't outright ask her to stay the night, but when she arrived, but as expected, Miranda immediately led her to the guest bedroom.

"I don't expect you to move in," she said, "but I realize we might not be keeping typical office hours, so you are more than welcome to stay the night here if you need."

"Wow," Andrea said. Miranda looked at her questioningly. "I'm just surprised. Thank you, that is generous, Miranda."

The older woman rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed. I spoke with Roy at length today, and he will be here at 5:45am."

"Can I do anything for you tonight?"

"No," she said. "Just knowing I'm not alone in this giant house helps."

"Can I ask how things went on Thursday night?" Andrea said. After several seconds of silence, she added, "You don't have to answer—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"Nonsense. James brought his wife Tess with him, but they were both very supportive and willing to help. It's just such a relief to know my girls will be okay. Oh, and you will need to get my lawyer's number from Leslie so you can call him when the surgery is over."

"And tell him what?" Andrea asked.

"Whether he needs to take action on my will."

"Your _will_? Miranda, you are not going to die!"

"Andrea, I have to be prepared. My girls are so young."

Andrea leaned against the doorframe, "Are you scared?"

Miranda crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "Ask me tomorrow," she said. "Goodnight, Andrea. And—thank you."

The next morning, Andrea and Miranda rode to the hospital in silence. Andrea could sense Miranda's nervousness—surprising, really, thinking about how much she learned about the older woman in the past week.

The hospital was relatively quiet when they arrived, and in no time, Miranda was in a soft cotton gown, waiting to go back to surgery. It was humbling to see Miranda Priestly so fragile, no makeup or jewelry, a saline drip dangling above her head and a pulse oximiter clamped on her index finger. Her eyes were shut, but Andrea knew she wasn't sleeping. Glancing at the oversized Louis Vuitton tote Miranda insisted on bringing, Andrea saw the velvet mouse slippers peeking out and had to smile.

Who ever thought Andrea Sachs would be smiling when thinking of Miranda Priestly? Anxious to see her or hear from her when they were apart? Scared at the thought of Miranda dying? Looking over at the small, pale woman, a single tear escaped her eye. "No, I won't do this," Andrea muttered, wiping her eye and turning to look out the window.

"Andrea, come here." Andrea quickly turned around and walked over to Miranda's bedside. Miranda grasped the young woman's hand, squeezing tightly as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. "Look after my girls, Andrea. They will need the influence of a smart, young woman, especially as they grow older. And—"

"No, Miranda, I can't do this. You're going to be fine. It's just surgery." Andrea said as tears streamed down her face.

"It is a six-hour invasive surgery. Anything can happen. Please promise me you will be there for them," Miranda said, reaching up to brush her hand along Andrea's cheek.

"Okay," she replied, her voice shaky, "I promise."

"Miranda," the nurse called as she stepped into the room, "We're ready for you." The nurse unlocked the wheels on the cart and began moving Miranda out of the room.

Andrea quickly bent down and hugged Miranda, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. "Good luck," she whispered, "I'll be waiting for you here when you wake up."

The following hours were torturous for Andrea. She was too nervous to fall asleep, and had Emily, Nigel, Leslie, and James all checking in with her every hour, all for different reasons, Emily of all people was the only one genuinely concerned about the surgery itself. Halfway through, Dr Barry stepped out and told Andrea that the mastectomy portion was complete, and that Miranda was doing well. She did, however, find additional lymph node involvement and would have to slightly alter the chemotherapy, providing Miranda with a stronger dose to ensure any remaining cancer-forming cells are destroyed. Elizabeth also mentioned that she was quite impressed with Dr Grant's work, and she was very hopeful that Miranda would recover well in the next few weeks.

"There is one more thing, Andrea," Elizabeth said. "Will you be staying with Miranda?"

"Um, no. Not unless I need to. I will be working from her home every day, though, so I can help her during the day," Andrea said.

"She will be going home with a drain surgically sewn into each breast. This is standard procedure, and by monitoring the amount and color of the fluid, we can better know how well her muscles are healing. The drains are small, and will need to be emptied frequently, especially during the first 48 hours. I will also make sure the nurse sends compression sleeves for her arm—she is not to lift anything heavier than, say, a gallon of milk, even once she is fully healed. This will all be in the discharge instructions, but I just want to reiterate some of the issues Miranda may be, well, opposed to."

"Thank you, Dr Barry," Andrea said. "what type of clothing should she wear?"

"Of course, fashion," she said, chuckling. "We will send her home with a sports-bra-like top that zips up the front and is slightly longer, so it doesn't cut into the underside of the breast. Anything like that is fine. It will be difficult for her to pull anything over her head in the first week or so, though, so you might want to think of loose blouses, ribbed tanks and zip-up or button-up sweaters, etc. Andrea, you'll do fine. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks again, doctor," Andrea said as Elizabeth walked away. Andrea called Emily and had her pull a selection of items from the closet and run them over to the townhouse while they waited. Hours later, Dr Grant came out to speak with Andrea.

"She did very well," he said, "I think she will be very pleased. When I spoke with her, she explained that she wanted to remain the same overall size, but she wanted to make sure I saved the nipples. Because of where her tumor was located, that was not a problem. Right now, she has expanders in, and those are essentially extra-sturdy balloons, barely inflated. Once her breast tissue is healing properly, we can begin injecting air into the expanders, gradually stretching the skin and tissue, until we reach the desired size. After her chemotherapy treatments, we can do a minor outpatient procedure to essentially slip out the expander and replace it with a traditional silicone implant. Call us if she has any sharp pains or difficulty breathing. We're sending her home with several different pain and nausea medications, but just remember that it's important to keep the breasts supported. It might seem like it would feel better to take the bra off, but in actuality, it can cause pain and potentially damage."

"Wow, thank you so much," Andrea said. "Can I see her now?"

"Yes, of course. She's probably still asleep, though. Call the nurse when she wakes so they can administer additional pain medication."

Andrea nodded and stepped back into the room. Miranda looked disheveled, but after what she was through, who wouldn't. Andrea sent a few quick texts off to Emily, Nigel, Leslie, and James, letting them know that she was sitting with her, and that she was just waking up, everything had gone well.

The young woman softly ran her fingers through Miranda's hair, partly to straighten it out, partly because she just wanted to touch the other woman, to feel her. Miranda slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. Andrea reached down and took Miranda's hand, smiling, bringing it up to her lips and gently kissing the woman's knuckles.

"Take me home," Miranda said as she closed her eyes again, biting her lip.

"Okay, I will. As soon as the nurse get you some medication, okay?" Andrea reassured. Miranda nodded, her eyes tightly shut, as Andrea frantically pushed the 'call' button for the nurse.

After getting Miranda some morphine, the nurse showed her how to change the drains, as well as the other discharge and care instructions. Miranda was to follow up with her surgeon in two days, but Andrea was able to get Dr Barry to agree to a house-call, provided Miranda wasn't experiencing extreme pain or any unusual complications.

The nurse recommended Miranda stay overnight at the hospital, just so they could monitor her pain better with IV medications. Andrea agreed, though she wondered how she had suddenly started making decisions about Miranda's very personal health issues without even consulting her. Hopefully, Miranda trusted her enough to not object or ask questions. Andrea stayed the night in the recliner next to Miranda's bed, watching the woman sleep and dream.

In the morning, Andrea and the nurse helped Miranda into the car. Roy drove home slower than usual, careful not to stop abruptly or otherwise jostle the fragile woman in the back seat. It was roughly a thirty minute ride back to the townhouse, and nearly ten minutes into the drive, Miranda started crying. She and Andrea were riding in a comfortable silence, until it seemed like out of nowhere, she started to cry. Andrea watched, unsure of what to do, not knowing if something like a hug would be too uncomfortable for the woman.

"Are you in pain?" Andrea asked, deciding she needed to break the silence and find out if something had gone wrong.

"No," Miranda said between sobs. Andrea placed her hand gently on Miranda's thigh, keeping the connection for the rest of the ride home. Roy and Andrea helped Miranda into the townhouse, slowly walking her all the way upstairs to her bedroom. Andrea busied herself rearranging things in the townhouse and making it more comfortable while the editor laid on the bed.

Andrea went downstairs, saying she was making a small snack and that she wanted to prepare some things. Miranda thought nothing of it, but when she needed to use the bathroom, she was surprised to find that she could not pull herself up off the bed into a sitting position without excruciating pain. "Andrea!" she called, but there was no response. Miranda knew she would come back upstairs eventually, but she really needed to use the bathroom at that moment. She continued to twist and turn, trying to scoot her way off the bed, but every move she made sent searing pain through her upper torso. Tears filled Miranda's eyes as she recognized her own helplessness in that moment.

"Miranda?" Andrea asked, running into the room, slightly out of breath from sprinting up the stairs. "Were you calling me?"

Miranda nodded her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I can't get up…I have to use the bathroom."

Andrea quietly gasped, sensing the woman's humiliation. Leaning forward and gently slipping her arms beneath Miranda's, she lifted her slowly, supporting her upper back, as the nurse showed her at the hospital. Once she was in a sitting position, she moved herself to the edge of the bed and Andrea held her hand out, steading Miranda as she stood.

"Thank you," she said as she walked past Andrea and into the bathroom. It was then that Andrea realized her job was going to be much more difficult than she thought. Seeing that look—utter humiliation—on Miranda's face was something she never wanted to see again. She wanted to make sure Miranda would never feel helpless again, but deep down, she knew the next months would greatly challenge that. Andrea was fluffing pillows when Miranda stepped out of the bathroom.

The silver-haired woman climbed into bed and lowered herself against the pillows. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears. Turning her head to the side, away from Andrea, she couldn't help the tears that continued to fall.

"I can't do this," Miranda said quietly.

"Listen," Andrea replied, trying to prevent the woman from a self-pitying diatribe, "you have to do this—for yourself, for your girls. Miranda, they need you."

"I can't even get out of my own bed. Do you know what that feels like?" she hissed.

"No," Andrea said quietly, looking down at her feet and slowly backing away, "No, I don't." She took a deep breath. "I'm going to sit out in the hallway for a while. Let me know if you need anything. I won't go out of earshot." Miranda nodded and Andrea shut the door partway, curling up on the chaise in the hall, crying herself into a light sleep.

It was only noon, and Andrea was exhausted. With anesthesia long gone and residual effects of morphine well out of her system, Miranda was actually doing well. Even the fluids in her drains were beginning to clear, a good sign.

"Andrea?" Miranda called.

Opening her eyes and running her hand through her hair, the young woman entered Miranda's room.

"Empty the drains again?" she asked. Again, Andrea nodded. Within minutes, the drains were empty, fluid volume recorded in her log. Andrea poured Miranda some more water, handing her the glass with the straw.

"You know, I always hated straws."

"Why?" Andrea asked.

"Because they made me feel like I was sick." Andrea froze, her hand involuntarily reaching to take the straw away. "No, it's okay," Miranda said as she pushed her hand away. "I was just trying to make conversation, I guess."

Andrea took a deep breath, ready to return back to her new location in the hallway when Miranda reached out and took her hand. "Please stay in here. There is plenty of room. I know I may not be the best company, and I'm certainly nothing to look at, but please, I would really appreciate it."

Andrea's expression softened as her eyes met Miranda's. "Of course," she said. "You are a beautiful woman, Miranda, and for some reason, I actually like your company."

"I'm not sure if I believe that, Andrea. You've been doing a good job of avoiding me."

Andrea pointed to the space on the mattress next to Miranda. "Can I?" she asked. Miranda nodded, and Andrea climbed up, careful not to bounce the mattress too much. She laid against the pillow and turned to face Miranda. "I feel like I don't know how to talk to you, Miranda. At work, we could always talk about your schedule or whatever. With doctors, there are always details to discuss. But just being here, I—I've lost my voice or something."

Miranda turned to look at Andrea. "I think I know what you mean," she said.

"Miranda, since the first day I've met you, I have been conditioned how to act around you, how to speak to you. These past few weeks—ever since Paris, really, it's just been…I don't know, _different_ between us. And I don't mean to upset you or anything. It's just…"

"We've grown closer, Andrea," Miranda said. "I know what you mean about it being _different_—I'll admit, around you, the 'Ice Queen' facade slips away so easily."

"For what it's worth, I like this side of you."

"Andrea, I'm not a box, I do not have _sides._"

Andrea started laughing, "You totally stole that line from _Postcards from the Edge_, but I'll let it slide."

Miranda blushed, "Well, it was quite fitting. I mean, how many chances will you have in a lifetime to—" She cut herself short, not in the mood for discussing what she will and will not do in her lifetime. "I'm sorry, I—I can't," she said, turning her head to the side, and crossing her arms across her waist.

Andrea moved closer to Miranda, resting her chin on Miranda's shoulder and softly draping her arm across Miranda's own. "Hey, don't worry," she said. "Let's get some rest, okay? Dr Barry is coming at 5:30, and I would like to be able to keep my eyes open when she's here."

Miranda laced her fingers with Andrea's, moving her other hand to lay softly on Andrea's wrist as they drifted off to sleep.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Intense pain woke Miranda from her sleep. "Andrea," she whispered, softly brushing the young woman's arm that was draped across her body. Andrea opened her eyes, surprised how restful her sleep was, draped across Miranda's body.

"Andrea, please," Miranda whispered, her tone increasingly desperate.

The young woman quickly sat up, "What's wrong?"

"I can't—breathe—so much—pain," she muttered, her eyes closed tightly shut.

"Okay, Miranda," she said, quickly getting off the bed to grab her pain pills and some water. "Here's your Norco. I think we should set an alarm so you take it exactly every 4 hours."

Miranda took the medication, but Andrea could still see her struggling to breathe. "Miranda," she said, taking the glass of water and putting it on the nightstand. "I realize you are in pain, but you need to relax. Hyperventilating will only make the pain worse."

"I can't," Miranda said.

"Let me try and help," Andrea said, "okay?" Miranda nodded, and Andrea stepped closer, placing her hands on Miranda's shoulders, softly kneading. "Just try to relax," she said.

After several minutes, Miranda's breathing returned to normal. There was something about Andrea's hands on her skin that was calming—almost soothing. "Thank you," she said. Andrea slowly drew her hands back and took a few steps from the bed.

"Dr Barry should be here shortly," she said. "Would you like to relax for a while, or do you think you want to try sitting in the study?"

"Yes, I think a change of scenery might be nice," Miranda said. Andrea held out her arm and the older woman reached out and pulled herself up. The surgeons had to cut deep into her muscle tissue underneath her armpit, and because of that, it was very painful for her to move her upper arms.

Miranda stepped into the bathroom while Andrea brought a few pillows into the study to make her chair more comfortable. Miranda walked into the study, and it warmed her heart to see how the young woman had taken care to make her more comfortable.

"Can I bring you something to eat or drink?" Andrea asked.

"Not right now."

"You do need to eat, you know. Your body can't heal without nutrients."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "I know. After Dr Barry leaves, I will have some soup and tea."

Andrea nodded and helped Miranda into the chair. "Would you like the television or radio on?"

"No." Miranda paused a few minutes, "Can you bring me my cell phone?"

"Miranda, you promised you wouldn't think about work this week," Andrea cautioned.

"I need to call my girls and let them know I'm okay," she said.

Andrea pulled Miranda's phone out of her pocket and handed it to her. "I am going to go downstairs and put some tea on."

As Andrea was busy in the kitchen, Dr Barry rang the doorbell. "Hi, please, come in," Andrea said.

"How is Miranda doing?" she asked, handing Andrea her coat.

"Well, okay, but she's in a lot of pain."

"That is to be expected. Maybe I can give her something stronger," she suggested.

"That would be wonderful. Come, she's upstairs," Andrea said, leading the way to the study.

"Hello, Miranda, how are you doing?" she said.

"Elizabeth."

"How has your pain been?"

"Moderate."

"Does it get worse and then better?"

"Yes."

"Miranda, I need something other than one-word answers. _When_ is it worst?"

Miranda turned and looked away. "It's waking me up. My chest is so tight, I can't take a deep breath. The pain medication helps, but makes me nauseous, so I try not to take it."

"You need to take pain medication. If this one doesn't agree with you, we have plenty of other options we can explore," she said. "Now, how have your incisions been? Any redness or unusual drainage? What does the drainage look like?"

"I haven't really looked."

"Miranda, I need to examine you. Is it okay if we do it here?"

"Uhm, I will just go straighten up the bedroom," Andrea said, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

Miranda looked up. "Yes, yes, it's fine. And please see about a different medication."

Dr Barry nodded. "I'm going to unzip your top, okay? It might feel uncomfortable for a little bit," she said as she reached closer to Miranda and unzipped her jacket, and then her bra top. "Miranda, this looks really good. While I'm here, I'm going to change your bandages. You'll need someone to change them every few days."

"Andrea can do it."

"Would you like me to show her how to do it now?" Elizabeth asked. Miranda nodded and Elizabeth stepped out to find Andrea.

When they returned, Andrea couldn't help but gasp. Miranda's breasts, despite the bruises, stitches, and drains, were absolutely beautiful. She didn't expect anything less, but something about seeing them in person took her breath away.

Andrea watched as Dr Barry showed her how to remove the old dressing and tape on a new one, making sure the wound was clean. Andrea's eyes avoided Miranda's, not wanting to make the woman any more uncomfortable than she already was. Once her dressing was changed, Dr Barry gently put Miranda's sports bra top back on her before pulling out her prescription pad and writing Miranda some additional drugs.

"Miranda, I'm giving you a few new pain pills, some Zofran for nausea, and some Valium to help you relax when the pain is intense."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Miranda said.

"Anytime. Now, Andrea, please call me directly if anything comes up," she said handing her her card.

"Thank you," she said, "let me walk you out."

"Andrea," she said once they were out of Miranda's earshot, "Try and get Miranda up and about. Make sure she eats. She is healing well from the surgery, but I'm worried about her. Something is bothering her."

"I will talk to her. She's opened up a little more to me."

"You're very special to her, I can see that."

"Oh, no," Andrea said, blushing, "I just work for her. I'm her assistant."

"Well, whatever you call it. I've known Miranda for years and she would never have even allowed any of her husbands to see her like this."

"I guess that's why she lets me—I'm just an employee," Andrea said.

"I'm not so sure of that. But, you're doing a fine job with her. Please, call if you need anything," Dr Barry said before she stepped out and shut the door behind her.

"Miranda?" Andrea called as she climbed back upstairs. "Are you ready for some dinner?"

"Yes, I suppose," she said. "Do you think we can eat downstairs?"

"Of course," she said as Miranda stood from the chair.

Miranda swayed as she stood, her hand reaching out to lean against the chair. Andrea rushed over and wrapped her arm around Miranda's waist, holding her upright. She didn't say a word, and neither did Miranda, likely not wanting to admit her own weakness.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Andrea quickly led her into the kitchen and into a chair. Andrea poured a cup of tea and set it in front of her, then poured a bowl of chicken soup.

Afterwards, Andrea helped Miranda upstairs, where she went to lay down in bed. Andrea made sure Miranda had her cell phone next to her, and then stepped out to the pharmacy to fill Miranda's prescriptions. That evening, once the new pain pill had a chance to start working, Miranda appeared to be feeling much better. Andrea helped to empty her drains before Miranda settled for bed.

"Goodnight, Miranda," she said. "I will be just down the hall if you need anything. Or you can call me," she said, gesturing to the phone on the bedside.

"Thank you," she said, watching Andrea walk out of the room. Andrea changed into a tank top and shorts, taking a very quick shower before climbing into bed, making sure her phone was charged and next to her pillow. She tossed and turned, trying to sleep. No luck. All she could do was lay on her back and stare up at the ceiling. It was interesting to listen to the sounds of the townhouse. While it was much quieter than her own apartment, the high ceilings and architecture of the place seemed to make little sounds echo even more. Just then, she heard a muffled sound she hadn't heard before. She picked up her cell phone, waiting for a text from Miranda.

After several minutes, she decided to go check on the older woman. "Oh my god, what's wrong?" Andrea said as she approached Miranda's bedside. She was in tears. "Miranda, are you okay?" she asked again.

"Andrea," she said, "I tried…the phone fell…I couldn't reach it."

"Shhh, it's okay, I'm here now," Andrea said, trying to calm her. "Do you need more pain medication?"

"Yes," Miranda said, nodding. Andrea rushed to the dresser and grabbed another pill and a bottle of water.

"Thank you," she said, handing the water back to Andrea.

"Miranda, I am so sorry. I should have—"

"Stop it. It's not your fault," Miranda said. "I overreacted. I was…nervous." Andrea gently picked up Miranda's hand, and Miranda squeezed it back. "Will you stay in here with me?"

"Of course," Andrea said as she walked around to the other side of the bed.

"You can come closer. I don't bite," Miranda said.

Andrea smiled and moved closer to the middle of the bed. "Is this better?" she asked.

"Closer," Miranda said, reaching down for the young woman's hand. Andrea moved farther over and laced her fingers with Miranda's.

"Sleep well, Miranda," she said.

The next few weeks went by quickly, Miranda growing stronger each day. Two weeks after the procedure, Dr Barry wanted Miranda to come to her office to have her drains removed. While she was willing to do it in her home, she preferred the antiseptic environment of her operating room. Andrea agreed that it would be good for Miranda to get out and get some fresh air, so they scheduled the appointment and Roy drove them. Andrea stood outside the door while Dr Barry removed Miranda's drains.

"Aaaah!" she heard Miranda scream. Her body tightened in fear as she felt the woman's screams resonate in her own body.

"Andrea?" Dr Barry called out, sticking her head out of the room, "Please," she said, gesturing towards the room.

Andrea quickly followed her, rushing inside. Miranda was buttoning up her blouse when Andrea stepped in. "Miranda, are you okay?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Much more painful than I expected, but it's over. Andrea," she said, pausing, "Would you like to go somewhere for lunch?"

"Are you feeling up to it?" she asked.

"Yes. I am. And I'm hungry."

Andrea smiled. "Pastis?"

"Yes, that sounds good."

Andrea quickly called to make a reservation and texted Roy. It was the first time she had gone out in public with the real Miranda, not the editor.

Miranda ate a steak sandwich, while Andrea chose a salad. "Miranda," she said, interrupting their silence. "Do you miss it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you miss working, _Runway_, hectic schedules, all of it?"

"I never thought I would say this, but no. I really don't."

"Are you going back?"

"Not for a while. Chemo starts next week, and well, it might be a good time for me to step away."

"You can't be serious?! Miranda, you are still so young and talented and gorgeous. Will you start another magazine or something?"

"Andrea, I can't really think about that right now. And while I'm flattered at your compliments, I am old, and I am unhealthy. It's not exactly the time to be planning my future."

"Miranda, I didn't mean to push you. I just think, when the time is right and when you're ready, you should think about it. You just have so much more to give to the the world."

"Perhaps," she said. "What was it you told me weeks ago? Take one day at a time?" Miranda said with a smirk.

"Yes, I guess I did."

"Well, today I just want to enjoy being out of the townhouse right now."

Andrea smiled and they finished their lunch in relative silence. On the way back to the townhouse, Roy drove by Elias-Clarke. Andrea said nothing, but she could feel the woman grow tense next to her.

Miranda continued speaking, looking out the window. "They are doing fine without me. I don't know if that's good or bad," she said.

"Miranda, I'm sure they miss you," she said.

"If they needed me, they would ask me for help. I guess I should be proud."

Andrea nodded. "No one can do what you do, Miranda," she said bringing her hand up to cover a giant yawn.

"Andrea, you need to take some time off. It's not fair that you're locked up in that townhouse twenty-four hours a day. You're young, you have your own life. You deserve better than this, Andrea."

The young woman was surprised at Miranda's words. "Please I'm fine. I want to be here. Miranda, I don't see this as a job. I care about you. A lot. More than I probably should," she said. Sighing, she added, "Don't push me away because of a yawn."

The towncar pulled up at Miranda's home and Roy stepped out to open the door for the two women. "Andrea," Miranda said, grabbing her wrist tightly, "we will continue this conversation in the house." Andrea nodded, and Miranda stepped out of the car and into the house.

When Andrea stepped inside and shut the door, Miranda was already upstairs. Andrea stopped and sat at the bottom of the stairs. She was exhausted, overtired from her disrupted sleep patterns, and now Miranda was trying to send her home. For the last month, the townhouse felt like her home.

"Andrea," Miranda called from the top of the stairs, "I'm going to lie down for a while. You're welcome to join me."

"Oh, I'm _welcome_ to join you? Gee, thanks. I guess now would be the time to pack my things."

"Andrea, don't do this. I am not in the mood to play games. I _want_ you to come lie down with me. I sleep better next to you."

Andrea sat and thought for a second, realizing how much it must have taken for Miranda to say those words. She had grown so close to Miranda lately, she sometimes forgot how sharp and biting her tongue typically was. Andrea immediately turned around, and began climbing the stairs, following Miranda into her bedroom. Miranda had changed into a soft sweatshirt and lounge pants, and was already climbing into bed as Andrea approached. She took her blazer off and tossed it on the chair, kicking her shoes off before climbing onto the other side of the bed.

"Andrea," Miranda said, "I meant what I said. I don't want to push you away. I like having you here. And honestly, it surprises me how much I…how comfortable I am with you."

"Really?" Andrea asked. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from the silver-haired editor.

"Yes," Miranda said, turning slightly to her side to reach over and take Andrea's hand. "I like who I am when I'm with you. I can't really explain it any further, and I know it doesn't make sense, but I don't have the strength to figure it out. I just know I can't afford to lose you."

"Miranda, I feel like I hardly do anything for you anymore. You have a housekeeper, and I just, I don't know, keep you company."

"You do a lot for me. And even if it's just keeping me company, your support is more than I could have hoped for," Miranda said.

"Miranda, I would do anything for you. I hope you know that."

"I think I do, Andrea. I still don't know if I believe it, but I hear you," Miranda said, bringing her hand up to her lips and softly kissing it. "Now, let's get some rest."

TBC... please r/r!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I was having problems with FF last night, so sorry these updates are back to back. As always, thank you for reading & please r/r!

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Chapter 5

The next week was very relaxing for both Andrea and Miranda. Miranda was healing very well from her breast surgery, and the doctor had put in her port for chemotherapy. She had little to no discomfort after that, and she was no longer taking pain/nausea medication, and she was even able to sleep on her side again. More than anything, being forced to sleep on her back was keeping her from getting any real rest. They took walks in the park, and even took a trip to see Caroline & Cassidy for a few minutes.

"Miranda, your appointment is at 10am tomorrow. First you will meet with your oncologist Dr Weber, and then you will receive chemotherapy. They said you should be ready to leave by noon," Andrea said.

"So, this is it, huh?" Miranda said. "First day of the rest of my life."

"Um, have you talked with Leslie lately?" Andrea asked.

"No, why?"

"The hospital wing is not private, Miranda. You will be seen, and if not this week, in the next few weeks someone will get a photo and, well, you know what happens next."

"Well," Miranda said, "I better go select my outfit, then."

Andrea smiled. She was glad to see Miranda so positive, and secretly wondered how long it would last.

"What are you thinking?" Miranda asked, resting her head on Andrea's shoulder. They were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, Andrea's feet resting on the coffee table and Miranda's tucked underneath her.

"Oh, um, nothing. Just about tomorrow."

"Are you nervous, Andrea?"

"No. I just. No. It's going to be fine," she said, taking Miranda's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"There's something else, isn't there? Tell me," Miranda urged. She stretched up and pressed a soft kiss to Andrea's cheek. "I promise I won't get upset."

"Miranda, you're finally doing better, you're stronger, the pain is gone, and I just wish there was something I could do to keep you this way."

"What is to say I won't stay this way?" Miranda asked.

"Chemo is awful. Yes, it kills cancer cells, but it destroys your body, too. I don't want to see you like that."

Miranda sat up and turned to face Andrea, taking her hands in her own. "Darling, if this is too much, I can find a nurse to stay with me."

"No!" Andrea shouted, "No, that is NOT what I meant. Miranda, I will be here with you through every minute," she said, throwing her arms around the older woman and hugging her tightly. "It's just—cancer changes people. And I like you exactly the way you are."

"What makes you think I'll change?" she asked.

"I've seen it before," Andrea murmured, her head buried in Miranda's neck.

Suddenly, it all made sense. "With whom?" Miranda asked.

"My sister," Andrea said.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Miranda asked.

"It wasn't the right time. I didn't want to bother you with my problems," Andrea said.

"Oh are you serious? You've seen me moaning in pain, crying in embarrassment, you've changed my bandages and emptied my drains. Andrea, please. It's actually a welcome distraction to think of someone other than myself for a while."

Miranda stood up and walked across the room, selecting a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Here," she said, handing Andrea a glass. "When was your sister diagnosed?"

"Four years ago," she said. "My sister is nine years older than me." Taking a deep breath, she continued, not wanting the story to be drawn out. "Because they don't typically do mammograms for women younger than 50, it was a long time before they realized it was cancer. At first, the doctor told her it was dense tissue caused by caffeine. She needed radiation to shrink the tumor before surgery. After six weeks of radiation, it had shrunk to the size of a golf ball, which is still enormous to me. She had reconstruction and chemo, but she got crazy with the chemo. She lost a lot of weight because she was trying to keep to this vegan, sugar-free, soy-free diet. She doesn't eat because she's afraid food will give her cancer again. She won't use plastics, but it's like she refuses to take care of herself. Her bones are brittle because she doesn't get enough nutrients. She's always dizzy and falls, and even now, she still lays in bed even two years later. It's like she doesn't want to get better because she knows she won't be getting as much attention. I haven't spoken to my mom in two years because of this."

"Darling, I'm so sorry to hear this. But her cancer—is it in remission now?"

"Yes, she's healthy. But it's all in her head now."

"So this is what you meant when you said you didn't want me to change," Miranda said.

Andrea nodded. "But Miranda, no matter what, I will stick by you."

"How can you say that? I don't know how this is going to affect me," Miranda said.

"I promise, Miranda."

"Okay," she said, "well I need to take some medication, and then we should probably get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

That night, Andrea climbed into bed with Miranda, as she had been doing for the past three weeks. Miranda turned to her left side, turning out the bedside lamp, and Andrea slipped in behind her, draping her arm across Miranda's torso. "Goodnight, Miranda," she said, softly kissing her cheek, "love you."

"Love you, too, Andrea. Sweet dreams, darling."

Andrea smiled. She didn't exactly remember when they started saying "love you," but she did know that neither of them had said "I love you"—as if those three words held more weight. Of course, she thought Miranda was beautiful, and she wondered what it would be like to be Miranda's lover. But, with everything Miranda was dealing with, she didn't even want to hint at anything more than what they had—a loving friendship—or something like that.

The next morning, Miranda woke early to shower, do her makeup, and get ready for the day. She decided on a crisp white blouse with a silk scarf, wide-leg trousers, and her plum Prada heels. Miranda went downstairs, made some half regular, half decaf coffee and sat at the kitchen counter, reading through her newspaper. It was only March. Staring at the words on the page, Miranda realized she wasn't really reading them at all. Glancing at the clock, she stood to make sure Andrea was awake. Roy would be arriving to pick them up in thirty minutes.

As she entered the hall, Andrea was coming down the stairs in a black wool Chanel dress with black and gold Tory Burch heels. Miranda forgot how breathtakingly beautiful the young woman was, as she had been wearing loungewear for the past few weeks. Andrea cleared her throat as she reached the bottom of the staircase, jolting Miranda from her daydream. "Well?" she asked, twirling around in a circle.

"Quite acceptable, Andrea. You should wear Chanel more often," she said.

"I asked Roy to come a few minutes early, if that's alright. I want to see what we can do about a private room there," Andrea said. She walked past Miranda and into the kitchen, digging around for a granola bar, some yogurt, and a bottle of pellegrino. Miranda watched as she packed the items neatly into her large tote. She poured herself a half cup of coffee and drank it quickly, returning to the hallway where Miranda was.

"Roy's here," she said. "Are you ready, Miranda?"

Miranda nodded and reached for her coat from the closet, watching as Andrea selected the green coat for herself. They settled themselves in the backseat of the towncar. Andrea sent several text messages to Emily and Nigel, reminding them that today was her first chemo. While they were gone, Emily was planning to deliver several floral arrangements to the townhouse. Andrea specified that she wanted two dozen pink, yellow, and white roses in Miranda's study, and pink peonies in Miranda's bedroom.

When they arrived, the doctor was actually ready, so Miranda met with the oncologist right away. He had been working closely with Dr Barry on her treatment plan, and explained each step to Miranda in detail. Andrea sat outside in the waiting room. Once the doctor was through, he walked Miranda to the waiting room, and Miranda introduced him to Andrea.

"This is my very dear friend Andrea. She will be here with me each week. Andrea, Dr Steven Weber."

"Hi Dr Weber, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for taking such good care of Miranda."

"I will see that Miranda receives the absolute best care while she's here. As I told her a few minutes ago, I am one hundred percent confident that after her chemotherapy treatments, she will be cancer-free and live a long, healthy life."

Andrea glanced over at Miranda and saw tears pooling in her eyes. "Thank you, Dr Weber."

"Let me show you ladies over to the treatment rooms," he said. "We have done our best to respect your privacy, but please realize we cannot shut down the clinic for you— there are many other women here, some with very aggressive cancers. It would not be fair to these patients if we were to deny them services."

"I completely understand, Steven," Miranda said. "Really, it's okay. It's just photographers I worry about."

"I will make sure my front desk staff knows to keep watch for any suspicious visitors," he reassured her.

"Thank you again, doctor," Andrea said, shaking his hand as she and Miranda stepped into a room. Andrea noticed that the other rooms had large windows that opened to the hallway, but the room Miranda was in had frosted glass so you couldn't really see inside.

Andrea walked over to the chair by the window and took a seat, pulling a few items from her bag. Miranda stood in front of the bed, unsure of whether she was supposed to sit or what.

"Do I have to lie in this hospital bed?" she asked quietly.

"They will hook up the IV to your port, and it will hang from that pole. Your blood pressure and oxygen will be monitored, so it's easiest if you're there. Here," Andrea said, "I'll move this into a sitting position." She played with a few levers on the bed and was able to bring the back up into a sitting position. "I brought something for you, hold on," she said. She quickly pulled a large vacuum-sealed bag out of her tote. Inside was one of Miranda's pillows. "Here," she said, setting the pillow on the sterile hospital bed.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Andrea asked as Miranda situated herself on the bed.

"No. Just coffee."

"Well, I packed some of Cara's homemade granola, greek yogurt, and an apple."

Miranda pointed to the apple and Andrea handed it to her, along with a small napkin. "Thank you, Andrea, for everything."

"That's what _very dear friends_ do, Miranda. Please don't feel like you need to keep thanking me. You know, before all of this," Andrea said, "you never thanked anyone for anything."

"I know. I was a horrible person," Miranda said.

"I wouldn't go that far. You just challenged others to do their very best."

"I suppose," she said.

Just then, two nurses walked in. "Hi, Miranda, I'm Laura and this is Jen. We will be your nurses throughout your treatment. If you can take off your scarf, I can get you connected. Jen will put your blood pressure cuff on."

Miranda took her scarf off and handed it to Andrea, closing her eyes as Laura snapped the tubing into her port. "Miranda," she said, "When this bag gets low, we will swap it out. There is an alarm on it, but please feel free to press the call light if you need anything. There is a restroom across the hall. You can take your IV pole with you. Do you have any questions?"

"No, thank you," Miranda said as the two women left.

They sat for a few minutes in silence before Andrea began speaking. "Have you thought about your hair, Miranda?"

"Yes," she said. "When it starts coming out, I'll have it cut," she said, "If I have to go anywhere, maybe I'll wear one of those black bob wigs from the _Runway _closet."

"Miranda, that would look great on you," Andrea said, thinking about how hot Miranda would be with that hair. "But of course," she added, "I do love your silver-white hair."

"Really?" Miranda asked. "You like the silver hair?"

Andrea smiled, "Of course I do, it's elegant and sexy and just goes perfectly with your skin tone."

"Come closer," Miranda said, moving towards the edge of the large hospital bed so Andrea could fit. The young woman kicked off her heels and climbed onto the bed, nestling herself alongside Miranda.

Andrea woke when the alarm on Miranda's IV began to beep. "I'll go get the nurse," Andrea said, starting to sit up.

"No," Miranda said. "Stay here. I pushed the button."

Andrea snuggled up to Miranda again, "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Absolutely perfect," she said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of Andrea's head.

Laura came in the room and stopped, clearly surprised at the scene before her. "Miranda, are you doing okay?"

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"I'm going to change this bag. The third bag will be a combination of fluids and anti-nausea medication. Can I bring you anything?"

"No, we're fine," she said, wrapping her arm more tightly around Andrea. They spent most of the morning next to each other. For Miranda, the young woman provided safety and security, silently reassuring her with each breath. Andrea loved laying there in Miranda's arms, but she knew it would be twenty-four hours before any of the chemo symptoms started. She wasn't sure if Miranda would still welcome her touch when she was bent over the toilet or curled up in pain.

As Miranda was on her third dose, Andrea got some granola and yogurt for Miranda and sat on the edge of the bed. "Andrea," she said, "you haven't eaten anything today, have you?"

"No, I, uh, woke up late. I'll have lunch later," she said.

"Here, have some yogurt," she said, "I can't finish it."

"Are you sure?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, please, eat."

Andrea took the yogurt from Miranda and put a spoonful to her lips. There was something strangely erotic about licking the yogurt off the same spoon that was just in Miranda's mouth. Miranda's breath hitched as she watched Andrea's tongue graze over the spoon, licking every bit of creamy white yogurt off of the utensil.

Andrea softly moaned as she finished licking the spoon. "That was delicious, Miranda, thank you," she said.

"Andrea, can you pass me some water?" Miranda asked.

Andrea hopped off the bed and pulled a bottle of Pellegrino out of her bag, pouring a small glass and handing it to Miranda.

Within an hour, Andrea and Miranda were ready to leave. Laura and Jen wished her well, and gave Andrea each of their direct numbers if she had any questions in the coming weeks. Roy helped the ladies into the backseat.

"Roy, can you turn the radio on—something jazzy or classical?" Miranda asked.

"Of course. Let me know if you need me to change it," he said.

"Have you ever listened to the radio in the car?" Andrea asked.

"I don't think so. I just kind of felt like it. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. It's lovely," Andrea said.

When Roy pulled up at the townhouse, Andrea and Miranda stepped out and headed up the steps. Once inside, Andrea took Miranda's coat and hung it in the closet with her own. "I'm going to go change into something more comfortable," Andrea said.

"Wait," Miranda said, "Please, keep the Chanel on for the rest of the day."

"But Miranda, it's from the Closet and I don't want to ruin it."

"Darling, I don't care. I will call Karl and have him send over an entire collection for you," she said. Miranda softly ran her hand down Andrea's arm as she admired the young girl in the wool dress.

Andrea nodded and followed Miranda up into the study. Miranda opened a small cabinet and put a Dave Brubeck Quartet album on the turntable. Smiling, she walked over to the couch and sat next to her, leaning against her and stretching her legs out on the couch. In no time, Miranda was asleep. Andrea tried to relax, but was kept awake by her thoughts. She loved Miranda, really truly loved Miranda, but had no idea what to do about it. Not only was it the first woman she'd been in love with, she had no idea what Miranda wanted. Yes, Miranda said she loved her, but it was that "very dear friend" kind of love. It wasn't until today, when she was sharing Miranda's spoon, that she realized she wanted to to kiss the older woman.

A few hours later, Miranda woke, and silently left the study. Andrea was awake, listening as Miranda walked into her bedroom, and into her bathroom. The minute she heard Miranda vomiting, she was on her feet, literally running to the master bathroom.

Andrea pushed the door open and ran towards Miranda, who was bent over the toilet, one hand wrapped tightly around her waist, the other balancing on the toilet seat. Andrea ran up behind her, holding her tightly as she reached over to the sink and ran some cool water on a washcloth.

"It's okay," Andrea said, placing the cool cloth on the back of Miranda's neck. Andrea flushed the toilet and felt Miranda start to stand up. She took the cloth and gently pressed it to Miranda's forehead for a few seconds before moving down to wipe her lips. Miranda had tears in her eyes.

"Andrea, you don't have to—" she started to say before Andrea lifted her finger to the woman's lips.

"Not a word," she said. "Here, rinse out your mouth and splash some cool water on your face," she said, pouring some mouthwash into a cup and turning the water on. The entire time, she stood behind the woman, her arm wrapped around her.

"I'm going to change into something comfortable," Miranda said.

"I'll quickly clean up in here," Andrea said, reaching under the sink for the lysol wipes and toilet bowl cleaner. As Andrea finished sanitizing the bathroom, she turned to put the cleaner back under the sink and wash her hands, but was significantly distracted when she glanced into the bedroom and saw Miranda standing their in her bra and nude silk undies. The woman was so incredibly gorgeous, and all Andrea could think of was how unfair it was that Miranda, someone she loved, had to suffer through this. Andrea washed her hands, watching as Miranda stepped into a silk night gown.

Drying her hands, she stepped out of the bathroom. "Here," she said, handing Miranda a pill from the dresser, "take a Zofran. It will help."

Miranda accepted the pill, and tried to swallow as little water as possible with it for fear of throwing up again.

"Miranda, you need to stay hydrated. Your body will handle the drugs so much better."

She nodded and took another larger sip of water before crawling into bed. "Andrea, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm sick."

"Hey," Andrea said, sitting carefully on the side of the bed next to Miranda, "I want to be here, okay? Now do I need to sleep in this dress or can I change into something else?" she asked.

Miranda smiled. "Wear whatever you want. There are some silk nightgowns in the top drawer if you'd like," she offered, thinking of how beautiful Andrea would look in the green silk gown she had.

Andrea went to the drawer and pulled out the green nightgown, smiling when Miranda nodded in approval. She stepped over towards the opposite side of the bed to change, as she already had a growing pile of clothes forming on the chair. While she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it, Miranda watched her reflection in the mirror. Andrea slipped off her bra before sliding the green silk gown over her head, and Miranda couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to press her body to Andrea's with only the thin layers of silk between them.

The young woman crawled closer to Miranda, reaching her hand up and cupping the older woman's cheek. "I care about you, Miranda," she said, softly kissing her cheek. "I want to be here, whether you're feeling good or not so good. I love you, Miranda," she said, pressing her lips to Miranda's cheek once again, but lingering a bit longer. "Try and get some rest."

"You too," Miranda said as she closed her eyes and felt Andrea's arm wrap around her body.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Several hours later, Miranda woke in a sweat. She crawled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, where she ran a washcloth under cold water before pressing it to her face, her neck, her arms, anywhere in hopes of cooling herself off. Knowing how cold marble always is, she sat on the tile floor of her bathroom, stretching out against the cool marble tile. She didn't know how long she laid like that, but she must have fallen asleep. When she woke, she felt better aside from a small headache.

Turning to walk back into the bedroom, she noticed flowers on her nightstand, peonies. Looking around the bathroom, she saw lilies and other flowers scattered about. The vase of flowers next to the bed had a small note. Creeping over towards the bed, she picked up the card: "Love you." it said. No signature, but she knew it was from Andrea.

Miranda smiled as she looked on the young woman, asleep, curled up against her pillow. She slowly crawled into bed, sliding up against Andrea's slender frame. Miranda turned onto her right side, facing Andrea, their faces only inches apart. She reached her hand up, gently sliding her fingers underneath Andrea's chin, "Andrea," she said, softly nudging the woman next to her. Andrea's eyes blinked open and she froze, her nose practically touching Miranda's. "Andrea, thank you for the flowers…and I love you, too," Miranda said, kissing her softly on the cheek before sliding her hand around the young woman's waist, resting her head back on the pillow.

"I'm glad you like them," she said, pretending she didn't hear Miranda's exact words. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine now," Miranda murmured, her eyes closed.

"When you wake up again, I'll make you something to eat," she said.

"Mmm-kay," Miranda sighed as she snuggled closer. Andrea held her breath as she felt Miranda's body press against her own. Her pulse was racing, and she was torn between wanting Miranda to rest and wanting to pin her down and ravish her. After several minutes of deep breathing, she calmed herself enough to fall asleep.

Hours later, Andrea woke as sunlight streamed into the bedroom. Miranda had turned to sleep on her back at some point, and Andrea slowly made her way to the edge of the bed, eager for a cup of hot coffee and a shower. She had been programming the coffee pot the night before so she wouldn't have to go downstairs twice. Seeing as it was still a little early, Andrea decided to shower before Miranda woke. She opened Miranda's bedroom door, and headed down the hall to the guest bedroom, leaving the doors open so Miranda would hear the shower if she woke.

Changing into her True Religion jeans and a creme-colored Chanel three-quarter length sleeve sweater, Andrea quickly dried her hair and applied a bit of foundation and lip gloss before heading back to Miranda's room. Andrea was surprised to see Miranda was not in bed. "Miranda?" she called.

"Just a minute," she said, her voice coming from the bathroom. Andrea took the opportunity to straighten out the sheets and fluff the pillows. "Which ones are my pain pills?" she asked Andrea quietly, leaning on the doorframe.

"Oh god," she said, rushing to grab the bottle. "How long?" she asked, handing Miranda two pills and a glass of water.

Miranda swallowed each pill and handed the glass back to Andrea. "I don't know, an hour maybe," she said, walking back towards the bed. Andrea quickly grabbed her robe off the bedpost and helped her into it.

"Come sit in the study," she said. "You need to eat something or those pain pills will do more harm than good," Andrea said, leading her to the couch. "How about a waffle with honey? And maybe some blueberries?"

Miranda nodded as Andrea pranced out of the room to make Miranda breakfast. Cara found delicious toaster waffles at the store, and Andrea drizzled a bit of pure honey across them before bringing them upstairs with two cups of half-caff coffee. "Here you go," she said.

"I'm not hungry, Andrea."

"Doesn't matter, you need to eat at least half of this."

Miranda turned up her nose at Andrea before taking the plate and starting to eat the waffle. Andrea drank her coffee in the chair next to Miranda as she read through her emails. "Miranda, I think you'll appreciate this email," she said. "Emily just wrote to me, complaining about how demanding Nigel is and how perverse it is that your temporary substitute is the bigger bitch."

Miranda smiled, looking up at Andrea as she placed her plate back on the coffee table. "Watch what you wish for," Miranda said, closing her eyes again and holding her breath, clearly in pain.

Andrea set her coffee down and moved to sit next to Miranda. "Talk to me," she said, resting her hand on Miranda's knee. "What's going on now?"

"My back," she said between breaths, "it's like a dull sharp ache, if that makes sense."

"Will it help if I rub it?" Andrea asked.

"Try it."

Miranda turned to face the arm of the couch and leaned forward, resting her head on the high arm rests. Andrea began softly applying pressure, gently rubbing and kneading the woman's back. "Is this okay?" she asked.

"Yessss. Don't stop," she said. After nearly ten minutes, Andrea paused, her hands growing numb. "Thank you," Miranda said. Andrea wrapped her arms tightly around Miranda, resting her chin on the older woman's shoulder.

"What else can I do for you?" she asked.

"Just hold me like this," Miranda whispered as she leaned back into Andrea's embrace.

The next week was much the same: Miranda was nauseous, achy, and feverish. But, after that, Miranda felt really good for a week, that is, until she had to go to chemotherapy and start the cycle all over again. By the time Miranda had two chemo treatments, her hair was coming out in rather large clumps, and much of the hair on her skin had already fallen out. Andrea was living at the townhouse full-time, and Miranda had agreed to pay the monthly rent and assessments on her apartment since she was obviously not staying there.

A few days before Miranda's third treatment, Andrea woke to find Miranda crying in the bathroom. A large patch of hair near her temple had fallen out and there was no styling that could hide it. Andrea sat next to her on the small bench and wrapped her arm around her.

"I can call Erika and have her come over this morning if you'd like," Andrea suggested. They had already spoken to Miranda's hair stylist and explained the need for a private, in-home cut. Erika was gracious enough to offer her services at a minute's notice.

"I have no choice," she cried, "I have to."

"Miranda, it's hair. It grows back on its own. You already went through a double mastectomy; this is nothing."

"You always manage to put things in perspective," Miranda said, softly smiling as she wiped the tears off her cheek.

That morning, Erika came and shaved Miranda's head, leaving nothing more than a short stubble. Miranda didn't notice, but Andrea took a lock of Miranda's silver-white strands off the floor and tucked it safely away in the guest bedroom.

"Miranda, really, you look gorgeous," Andrea said. Erika nodded in agreement as she cleaned up and packed her supplies.

"If by that you mean like Jamie Lee Curtis…" Miranda droned.

"No way," Andrea said, "You look sexy like Demi in _G.I. Jane—_it really brings out your clear blue eyes."

Miranda blushed. After living with Andrea for the past two months, she still hadn't learned how to take a compliment.

Emily had sent over a plethora of scarves in various sizes, prints, and fabrics, as well as casual and formal hats, which Miranda surprisingly enjoyed playing with as she sat in front of the mirror, often choosing a simple Hermes silk scarf.

"Miranda, I have lunch downstairs, a chicken salad wrap," Andrea called.

"I'm not hungry," Miranda said. "I'll eat it later."

"You've said that for the past few days, tell me, what's wrong?" Andrea asked.

"Nothing tastes good," Miranda said with a shrug. "It's like I can taste burnt flesh in my mouth when I'm eating."

"Well," Andrea said, the eternal optimist that she is, "there has to be something that complements that particular charred flavor. We'll just have to find it."

Miranda smiled and shook her head at the young woman, thinking how wonderful she was. They spent the rest of the day taste-testing different foods until they found three foods Miranda would tolerate: fresh pineapple, cooked beets, and no-added-sugar Steaz tea. It was a very limited diet, but Andrea knew how important it was to keep eating and stay hydrated. She and Cara devised a few pineapple smoothie recipes for Miranda where they could add protein powder, and she seemed to be doing better.

Months later, Andrea struggled to get Miranda to drink, let alone eat anything. She was constantly nauseous, losing weight rapidly, and refusing to take pain medication because the side effects were intolerable.

"Miranda, please," Andrea said, laying in bed next to the frail woman, softly massaging her scalp, "you are a strong woman, and you need to fight back here. You can hardly walk because you're so weak. You are dehydrated and dizzy, and your blood pressure is dangerously low. Please," Andrea said, tears streaming down her cheeks, "your daughters need you. _Runway_ needs you. _I_ need you."

"I can't do this anymore," Miranda said. "I can't go through two more treatments."

"You can't or you don't want to?!" Andrea shouted, sitting up and breaking contact with the woman. She never raised her voice at Miranda, and even surprised herself at this outburst.

"You're letting go, Miranda. If you die, it won't be the cancer that killed you, it will be _you. _Let me know if you've changed your mind," Andrea said before storming out of the room.

She really had nowhere else to go. It wasn't like she could go back to her apartment and risk leaving Miranda alone, but something inside just snapped and she couldn't handle Miranda's pity party. She was really, truly scared that Miranda might not get through this, and that was what hurt more than anything. Miranda, whom she loved, who claimed to love her, too, wouldn't even fight for her.

Andrea wandered the hallway for a few moments before heading to the guest bedroom and flopping on the bed, crying her eyes out. She really hadn't let herself _feel_ much of anything lately, as she had been too busy putting on a calm and positive face for Miranda. But the truth of it was that she was hurting, and not only because of what Miranda was going through—for the first time in her life, she felt like she was 'in love' and that someone loved her back, but she needed more. She needed to know Miranda's love wasn't simply because Andrea was there, available, and kind.

Regardless of her own emotions, she knew it was time to call someone.

"Hi Laura, this is Andrea, Miranda's friend?"

"Oh, hello. How is everything with our patient?"

"Well, not good. Miranda is depressed, and not eating or drinking, and I'm scared."

"Okay, don't worry," Laura said, "this is very common at this stage of treatment. Let's see if we can't try and help her without anti-depressants, because that will trigger even more side effects, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Andrea said between tears, "What can I do?"

"How about I come to her home with some IV fluids. I'll have Dr Weber write the order to administer in-home, and that should perk her up. If she's as dehydrated as you say, she can take up to three liters, and I imagine it will go quickly."

"You can do that?" Andrea asked.

"Of course. I'd be happy to. Is her current address in the chart?"

"Yes. Thank you so much, Laura, really," Andrea said.

"I'm glad you called. I will see you in about two hours okay?"

"Yes, goodbye." Hanging up the phone, Andrea sighed a deep breath. It was going to be okay. She quickly dried her eyes and went back into Miranda's room, feeling the need to be close to her, to reassure her as well as herself.

Not surprisingly, Miranda was in the same position as before. Andrea crawled onto the bed and curled up behind her, wrapping the other woman tightly in her arms.

"Andrea," Miranda weakly protested, "you don't have to stay here. I don't need you."

"I'm not leaving, Miranda," she said. "In fact, I'm staying forever because I realized it's me who needs you."

Miranda slowly turned around in Andrea's arms, turning to face her so their eyes were inches apart. "You…need…me?" she asked.

"Yes. I love you. I'm in love with you. My life would be nothing without you," she said.

"But, you can't mean that! You're young. You have your life ahead of you. You're missing out on so much," Miranda said. "You deserve so much better than this," she said, gesturing at her own tired body.

"But _you _are what I want," she said.

"Andrea, I have no hair. My skin is ashen. I can't even walk up the stairs by myself."

"Doesn't matter," Andrea said, looking deeply into Miranda's eyes. "I said, _I want you_."

Miranda closed her eyes momentarily as she let the young woman's words wash over her. It had been so long since she felt desirable, and now, after everything in the past year, she felt that she needed it, too.

"Miranda," Andrea whispered as she pressed her cheek to Miranda's, "would it be alright if I kissed you?"

Miranda nodded ever so slightly, and Andrea softly pressed her lips to Miranda's. The feeling was exquisite—better than she could have ever dreamed. Miranda slowly reached her hand up, lacing her fingers in Andrea's as she pulled her closer, tasting her hot breath and feeling her smooth skin.

Andrea slowly pulled back, releasing Miranda's lips so the woman could catch her breath. Andrea softly trailed her lips down Miranda's neck, across her chest, around her port. They lay like that, entwined in each other, for quite some time, gently nuzzling each other.

"I kissed your lip balm off," Andrea said, reaching over to the nightstand for the small tube. She squirted a bit onto her finger and softly spread it across Miranda's lips. "Laura your nurse should be stopping by soon," she added, "to give you some IV fluids."

"I don't nee—" Miranda began, abruptly cut off by Andrea's finger to her lips.

"If you won't fight, I will," she said. "Even if it means Laura coming her every single day."

"Thank you," Miranda said, softly kissing Andrea's cheek.

The fluids significantly improved Miranda's condition, and after a few hours, her headache was nearly gone, and her appetite returned. By the time her last chemotherapy treatment came around, they had a set schedule so Laura would come give Miranda fluids beforehand, eliminating some of her discomfort and allowing her to safely take medication.

"Good morning, beautiful," Andrea said, leaning over and placing a soft kiss on Miranda's lips, "Last treatment today," she whispered as the woman was waking.

"Not really," Miranda said, "There's still Herceptin."

"But your hair will start growing back, you'll get your appetite back, the worst is over," Andrea said.

"Will it ever be over?"

"Of course," Andrea reassured her, brushing her knuckles along the woman's cheek. "Think of what you've already been through, and look how far you've come."

"I would never wish this on anyone, you know. Not even someone like… _Irv _or _Jacqueline_," she said. "These past seven months, I—I—there was not one day that passed that I didn't wish I were dead. There is no way anyone could ever understand what goes through my mind."

Andrea grew silent as Miranda went on, her heart breaking as Miranda relayed her grief, her loneliness, her pain.

"And it wasn't just that," Miranda continued, staring up at the ceiling. "I constantly worry about my girls, if pushing them away was the right thing to do. What if the cancer comes back and I don't make it? All the time I would have missed… These past months have been a black hole, draining the life out of me. I wish I could just forget everything, have my memory altered. Every day for the rest of my life, I will feel this void, remember this period of time with loathing." Miranda closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, breathing deeply to calm her trembling body.

What she didn't see, was Andrea's reaction, her hand covering her mouth, the tears streaming down her cheeks, the way she turned away as her body began retching.

"Andrea?" Miranda said, thinking it unusual that the young woman wasn't speaking. She opened her eyes and stared at the empty space next to her, wondering where the young woman went.

In the guest bedroom, Andrea shut the door and locked herself in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face as she tried to calm down. After several minutes, she stared at herself in the mirror, eyes red and swollen, skin pale, hands trembling as they grasped the ledge of the vanity. "I'm such a fool," she whispered, gently chewing on her upper lip, trying to keep the tears away. "I let my heart get in the way, thinking she actually felt the same about me," she mouthed, "but it was a lie. She wants to forget it all." Andrea walked over and turned the shower on, hoping it would drown out her sobs, not like Miranda would be listening for it anyway.

In the meanwhile, Miranda dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast. Since Andrea wasn't there to prepare it, she settled on eating some pineapple slices that were in a storage container in the fridge. Miranda heated up water in the electric kettle and made herself a cup of hot tea, sipping it slowly while she just sat, silence lingering in the air.

Miranda realized she did not even know what time her appointment was that morning. She set her mug in the sink and slowly headed upstairs to find the brunette, wondering what was taking her so long.

"Andrea," Miranda said, knocking on the guest room door, "what time is my appointment today?"

"11:45" Andrea replied.

"Oh. Okay. We need to leave in twenty minutes, then, don't we?" Miranda asked.

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll just— I'm ready. I'll just wait downstairs."

Andrea was ready, too. While Miranda was downstairs, she slipped out and gathered her things from Miranda's bedroom, packing everything quickly into two large _Runway_ duffle bags and several garment bags.

She waited for twenty minutes to pass, watching the minute hand slowly tick around the clock, 1,200 ticks. When she received a text from Roy that he was downstairs, she knew she had no choice but to head downstairs.

"There you are," Miranda said nonchalantly. "Come, we don't want to be late."

Andrea nodded and followed Miranda out of the house, wearing her large, dark Coach sunglasses. In the backseat of the towncar, Andrea sat apart from Miranda. Though they sat like that countless times, during the ride to chemo, they always had some sort of contact—hands, arms, knees, something. The ride was silent, but today, it was a different sort of silence Miranda didn't quite understand. In the past, they often refrained from speaking out of nervousness, but now, now it was almost over.

Before Miranda could figure it out, Roy pulled up outside the cancer center and stepped outside to open the door for the women. Miranda stepped out of the car and waited, expecting Andrea to join her side. When she realized the young woman hadn't stepped out of the car, she quickly turned back, ducking her head in the backseat. "Andrea, are you coming?"

"No," she said. "I—I thought I told you, I have some stuff to take care of at _Runway _today. Serena has the flu and Emily really needs help."

"Oh," Miranda said, "Of course, go." She paused for a moment, not sure what to say next. "I'll—um—let you know how the appointment with Dr Weber goes today."

"Okay, thanks," Andrea said. Miranda stepped away from the car as Roy closed the door.

"Miranda, text me when you're ready," Roy said.

Miranda nodded and turned to walk into the building, unsure of what just happened.

When Roy jumped back around to the driver's seat, Andrea was sobbing in the back seat. "Hey, Andy—" he began.

"Just go!" Andrea shouted.

Roy hit the gas and they peeled out into traffic, speeding away. "Where to?"

"I—uh—drop me off at _Runway," _she said, drying her eyes. "Then I need you to pick up a few bags from the townhouse—they're in the guest room—and take them to my place," she said. "Do you still have my key?"

"Yes, of course. But wait, Andy, I have to ask. Why aren't you going in there with her today?"

"She'll be fine. She doesn't need help anymore. She wants to erase the past seven months anyway, so why not start now," she said.

"Look," Roy said, "I don't know what went on between you two, but this just doesn't seem right. And I happen to know that Serena is perfectly healthy today."

"Don't get involved," Andrea said. The car pulled up to the curb alongside Elias-Clarke. "I mean it," Andrea said before she stepped out of the car and shut the door.

Riding up the elevators, she paced back and forth, her stomach in knots, wounded from this morning's words.

"Hello, Miranda, how are we doing today?" the receptionist asked, continuing before the woman could answer, "I'll go and let Dr Weber know you're here."

Miranda nodded and took a seat, folding her hands in her lap.

"He's ready for you, come on back," she said. Miranda stood and followed the woman into the all-too-familiar office.

"Miranda, hello," he said, shaking her hand. "Where's your friend?" he asked, looking towards the door to see if the young woman was there.

"She's not coming," Miranda said.

"Oh? Well, today is your last official day of chemotherapy as I'm sure you're aware. We ran the blood Laura drew at your home yesterday and everything looks great, your WBC is right where we want to see it at this point. In four weeks, we'll begin Herceptin, and I've decided it best to do every two weeks for three months, so six rounds in total. The first two will be delivered intravenously, but after that, I'll give you a prescription for capsules you can take every other Thursday night." He paused. Miranda's eyes were focused on his desk, but it was clear her mind was far away. "Miranda?" he called. "Do you have any questions?"

"No," she said, shaking her head and looking up to meet his eyes. "Thank you very much," she added as she stood to shake his hand.

"My pleasure. Oh, and there will be a few extra people floating in and out of your treatment this afternoon—nurses, nutritionists, you know. It's all standard, and they will give you the utmost respect and privacy."

"Fine. Thank you," she said, stepping out and heading down the hall towards treatment.

"Laura," Dr Weber said, pulling her aside, "Make sure that Miranda talks with the therapist today, too."

"Will do," she said. "Anything in particular?"

"Her friend Andrea didn't come with her today. I think something is bothering her about that."

Laura nodded and quickly followed Miranda down the hall, where she was already getting settled in the room. After taking a few notes, she slipped the blood pressure cuff on Miranda's arm while Miranda unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse to allow access to her port. Laura quickly connected the tubing and arranged it so it was out of her way.

"I'm sure that Karen and Sylvia will be stopping in today, but as always, page me if you need anything," she added.

"Thank you, Laura," Miranda said. Grateful the young nurse didn't mention Andrea's absence. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back on the pillow and forced her mind to think of something that wasn't Andrea.

"Knock, knock," Karen said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her. "I'm Dr Karen Shepard, and I just wanted to talk to you about a few things today."

Miranda nodded and motioned her hand towards the empty chair at her bedside. Karen took a seat and reached up to grab Miranda's hand, softly squeezing. "You've come so far, Miranda. How do you feel about today?"

"I'm sorry," Miranda said, pulling her hand away forcefully, _"who_ are you?"

"Dr Shepard, your psychologist," she said with a wink.

"Oh god," Miranda said, bring her hand up to cover her face. "Really, I don't need this."

"It's mandatory, sorry. At least once during your chemotherapy treatments," she said. "I can be quick, but you have to be honest with me."

"Ok. Fine," Miranda said, knowing that this could be very painful if it were to drag out. "How do I feel about today, you asked? Not happy, that's for sure. So it's my last one of this type of treatment. Even when it's all over, it's not like finishing a project where you just keep going and start on the next. This project changed me, changed my life, and _honestly_, all I want to do right now is erase the past seven months."

"Ok, ok, that's good…You're absolutely right in your comparison, but maybe try thinking of cancer as a long-term project, one you're slowly but surely finishing, maintaining, touching-up."

"My work never needs _maintenance _or _touch-ups_." Miranda hissed.

"Okay. Well. Tell me more about the past seven months," Karen said.

"Why?"

"Miranda…" Karen warned.

"Fine," she huffed. "The past seven months are simply a time I want to forget: the most intense pain of my life, plus days upon weeks of sobbing, vomiting, achiness, helplessness… I'm just now starting to feel human again. I would very much like to strike that from my memory for good."

"I can't even begin to understand what you've gone through," Karen said, "but wasn't there anything positive you can extract from that?"

"No."

"What did you do to overcome the pain, the sobbing, the helplessness?"

"I don't know, I just dealt with it."

"But something had to help, help ease it, no?"

"I don't know," Miranda said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Certainly not the drugs—they made me sicker."

"Who was there when you were feeling your most helpless? Surely there was a time you probably couldn't make it out of bed on your own."

At this Miranda's eyes widened as she turned her head to look Karen straight in the eye. "This," she said, "is exactly the kind of thing I want to forget."

"Answer the question, Miranda."

"Fine. Andrea. Andrea was there. Andrea rubbed my back when I was in pain, comforted me when I was nauseous, held me tightly while I cried, helped me in and out of bed and up and down the stairs…held me every single night for the past seven months. It was Andrea," Miranda said. "And she's not here today, and I don't know why. There, happy?"

"Does she usually come with you?" Karen calmly asked.

"Yes. Since the beginning. Since my mammogram."

"Sounds like she's pretty amazing. What's your relationship with Andrea?"

"She was—_is_," Miranda said, correcting herself, "my assistant."

"Are you typically this close with your assistants?"

Miranda thought for a moment before answering. "No. Andrea has become a friend to me."

Karen nodded, jotting something on her notepad. "Were you _expecting_ her to come with you today?"

"Yes, I suppose," Miranda said. "I mean, of course. She has been at my side since I first found my lump. I stopped questioning her presence months ago."

"So, would you say that her presence might have been a positive thing from the past seven months?"

"Well, obviously," Miranda said, rolling her eyes. "I would never have gotten through that without her."

"What about the future? Do you see your friendship continuing once your cancer is in remission?"

"Of course!" Miranda said, "I mean, yes, I'm sure it will."

"So is it fair to assume that in erasing the past seven months, you would also be erasing the memories of her and her kindness?"

Miranda held her breath as she slowly realized what she had done, the pieces rapidly falling together. "I—I never meant to hurt her," Miranda said as tears streamed down her face. "I thought she understood I was talking about this damn cancer," she said. "I'm sorry, I need to make a call," Miranda said, picking up her phone off the side table.

"I understand," Karen said. "And I'll leave you alone, but just remember that it's probably been really hard on her seeing you like this, and she probably wishes she could erase that part, too. But be sure to let her know you appreciate what she's doing, what she's given up to support you."

Miranda nodded as she frantically dialed Roy's number while Karen stepped out of the room and shut the door.

"Miranda? Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Is Andrea with you?"

"No, I dropped her at _Runway. _Are you okay? Do you need me to come by?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I just need to speak with her. Thanks," she said, hanging up before giving him a chance to respond.

Dialing Andrea's phone, she was immediately directed to voicemail. It had been nearly a year since she heard Andrea's voicemail greeting. Realizing she must have turned her phone off, she took a deep breath, wondering if Andrea could really just shut herself off so quickly. Not allowing herself time to answer that, she quickly dialed the office number.

"Miranda Priestly's office, can you please hold?" Emily said.

"Emily—wait!" Miranda said.

"Oh my gosh, Miranda, I'm so sorry," she said.

"Emily, is Andrea there?"

"Is everything alright?"

"_Is Andrea there_?" Miranda repeated. "I need to speak with her immediately."

"Yes. Just one moment, she just went to gather some samples," Emily said. She stared at the phone for a minute, knowing she could never put Miranda on hold, but also knowing she wouldn't be able to scream loud enough to reach Andrea. Biting her lip, she pressed hold and ran down the hallway to get the brunette.

"Em, Em, slow down," Andrea said.

"No, Miranda wants to speak to you—Andy, _she's on hold_."

"Shit, Em, is she okay?" Andrea said, quickly following her down the hallway.

"Wouldn't tell me—she's on line 3."

"Miranda?" Andrea said, answering the phone slightly out of breath.

"Andrea," Miranda said, exhaling a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. "Andrea, I'm so sorry."

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Andrea asked anxiously.

"Nothing is wrong, but I am not okay. I love you, and I absolutely appreciate what you've done for me in the past seven months, and what you continue to do. Don't think for one minute that I have ever taken you for granted. You and I both know I would not have come this far without you. So, please, forgive me, darling."

Tears streamed down Andreas face as she held the receiver, trembling. Emily nervously watched her, wondering what Miranda was saying. "Okay," she said, "Yes, of course. I'm sorry I was being so childish. I shouldn't have let you go alone."

"As long as you'll be there when I get home," Miranda said.

"Yes, of course."

"I'll let you finish up over there," she said. "Pick out some new clothes for us, will you?"

"You trust me?"

"Yes. I love you, and trust you with my life, Andrea."

Andrea smiled. She would never tire of hearing those words. "You too," she said, cautious of her surroundings. "I'll see you soon," she added just before Miranda ended the call.

"Everything is okay?" Emily asked.

"It is now," she said. "But before I go, I need you to help me pick out a new wardrobe for Miranda."

TBC….

A/N: I originally intended to split this one up into several chapters, but kind of just kept writing... thanks for reading! please r/r!


	7. Chapter 7

In no time, Andrea had dozens of garment bags full of clothes loaded into the trunk of the towncar. Anticipating Miranda would be finished with her treatment soon, Roy was about to leave when Andrea hopped into the backseat. She wanted to be there when Miranda was finished.

"So, I don't need to go pickup your bags and take them to your apartment?" Roy asked.

"No," Andrea said, pressing the button to raise the screen. Her emotions were on overdrive today, and the last thing she wanted was mindless smalltalk with Miranda's faithful driver.

As they waited outside the cancer center, Andrea closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples—anything to make the time go more quickly. The driver door opened, and Andrea saw Roy run around to open the other door. Andrea held her breath, physically shaking with nervousness. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this.

As Miranda sat on the seat next to her, she jumped slightly, causing Miranda to turn and pull away her sunglasses.

Miranda smiled at her, and the young woman began to cry, quietly at first before it grew into full-out sobs. Miranda moved closer and draped her arm around her, holding her against her chest and softly running her fingers through her hair. Miranda didn't say a word, simply holding the woman and letting her cry. If she learned anything today, it was that she needed to consider Andrea's emotions instead of focusing only on herself.

As Andrea calmed, she looked up, staring into Miranda's red-rimmed eyes. "I'm so sorry, Miranda," she said, "I promised you I would be there, through everything, but I failed you. I let you down."

Her words deeply affected Miranda. How could this woman who had been there, at her side, twenty-four hours a day for the past seven _months_, possibly think she had _failed _her? "Shh," Miranda said. "You did not fail me, please. It was fine, nothing happened. I am very much capable of doing things on my own," she said.

"Yes, but—" Andrea protested.

Miranda pressed her lips to Andrea's, silencing the woman as she cupped her cheek with her hand. Andrea pulled away from the kiss, turning her head and taking Miranda's wrist in her hand, softly trailing kisses from her palm and down her wrist, her eyes never breaking gaze with the other woman's.

"Andreeea," Miranda quietly moaned as her eyes flickered shut. The car pulled up along the curb in front of the townhouse. Pulling her arm away, Miranda bit her upper lip and took a deep breath. "Let's go inside," she said, tilting her head towards the door.

Roy held the door open as the two women stepped out. "I'll bring the garment bags in," Roy said as he closed the door and headed to the trunk.

Miranda looked at Andrea, her eyebrow raised in question. "New wardrobe," Andrea said, smiling. Roy followed the women into the townhouse, Miranda taking her time as she set her bag on the table in the hall, untying her scarf and applying some lip balm. After two trips, Roy left, closing the door behind him. The dining room table was now covered in garment bags, no doubt nearly a million dollars worth of clothes haphazardly strewn about.

But Miranda didn't care about the clothes right now; she wanted to pick up where she left off with the brunette. Turning to the woman next to her, she slowly pushed her backwards against the closet door, crushing her lips to Andrea's. She gasped as Miranda took her lower lip between her teeth, her tongue quickly darting inside the woman's mouth. Andrea moaned, the feel of the older woman's tongue against hers sending a shiver through her body. Andrea snaked her arm up and pressed against her shoulder, gently nudging her away. When they parted, Miranda pressed her forehead against Andrea's, both struggling to calm their breathing. Andrea knew she couldn't continue, not now, not yet. She quickly kissed Miranda on the cheek and slipped away from her grasp, heading towards the kitchen.

"What would you like to eat?" Andrea asked, opening the fridge and surveying her options. She knew that if they had an early dinner, she would be able to get Miranda to enjoy a snack later before her symptoms started.

"Whatever we have in there, that's fine," she said, shaking her head and walking towards the den. As Andrea heated up some chicken and steamed some green beans, Miranda sat on the couch, lost in thought. She couldn't deny her body's reaction to the other woman, but the way in which Andrea walked away, Miranda couldn't quite understand. In these past few months, she had learned how to accept the woman's touch, to the point where she was more comfortable when Andrea's hands were on her than she was without. A year ago, she would have never let someone touch her face, run their hands through her hair and across her scalp. She even used to avoid shaking hands, she recalled, fondly remembering the first day Andrea stepped into her office and reached out her hand.

Andrea entered the den, two plates balanced on her arm, two glasses in the other hand, and a bottle of Pellegrino tucked under her arm, startling Miranda as she set the plate on the coffee table in front of her. "What were you thinking about?" she asked, pouring their water, obvious that she pulled Miranda from her thoughts.

"The day you came to interview at _Runway_," Miranda answered honestly.

"Ooh, any good thoughts?"

"I didn't shake your hand."

"No, you didn't," Andrea said, laughing. "_Miranda Priestly _never shakes hands. _You _never touch Miranda Priestly," she recited.

"Was I that bad?" Miranda asked.

"No, no. That's not it. I'm just a touchy-feely person," she said. "You know, lots of hugs with friends and family, always have my hands on them somehow. I guess it just makes me feel more connected." Miranda smiled as she picked up her plate and fork.

"Miranda," Andrea asked, "Why didn't you like people to touch you? Were Caroline & Cassidy the only ones who could hug you?"

"I don't know, I think it was more complicated. I let you touch me now," she said.

"Yeah, you do," Andrea said, smiling. They ate in silence, Miranda's mind drifting to her daughters.

"Do you think I made the right decision?" she asked, pushing her plate away.

"About what?"

"The girls. Sending them to live with James and Tess."

"I think you would not have been able to rest if they were here."

"What do you mean?" Miranda asked.

"You've said before that you wanted things to be 'normal' for them, and well, it would have been hard on you to do that."

Miranda thought about how right Andrea was. She would have forced herself to be near them, not hiding in her bedroom, and there were so many days when she couldn't imagine having to get out of bed for any reason other than to use the bathroom. "You're right," she said, finally.

"Do you think they will come home soon?"

Miranda leaned back into the couch, taking a deep breath. She missed her girls, very much, but she was torn, because she wanted to continue to spend time alone with Andrea. Realizing how crazy that sounded, she said, "As soon as I get through the next week, I'll call them."

"Oh, wow, that's soon," Andrea said, suddenly realizing how difficult it would be to explain why she was sleeping in the same bed as their mother. "But, I'm sure they will be thrilled to see you."

Miranda nodded, not sure of what else to say.

"Have you thought about when you'll go back to work?" Andrea asked.

"No," Miranda said. "Well, yes. I've thought about it, and it will still be some time. I don't know what the Herceptin will do. Laura told me that they typically do infusions every four weeks, but Dr Weber is doing every two with me because of the type of cancer. She said that Herceptin can damage my heart, and they will closely monitor everything, especially after the first few infusions."

"Oh, I didn't realize that," Andrea said, lying. She had done her research, too. She knew all the possible side effects, but was hoping that for once, Miranda would be positive in thinking of the future.

"Yes, well, it's too early to plan anything like going back to work," Miranda said, knowing that somewhere deep inside, she was afraid of going back to _Runway, _afraid that this had softened her too much, that she wouldn't be the same, couldn't manage the workload, couldn't take over after Nigel had been doing so wonderfully in her absence. She was even worried that she literally wouldn't be able to see things as well. After chemo, her eyesight had significantly deteriorated, but she tried to hide it from Andrea, unwilling to show another sign of weakness. She simply stopped wearing her contacts and chose glasses.

"No need to decide anything just yet," Andrea reassured. She could tell by Miranda's glazed-over expression that her thoughts had drifted. "It's been a long day, I think I'm going to go lie down," she said, standing to gather their plates and glasses from dinner.

"Yes. It has," Miranda said, "I think I'll join… If that's okay with you?"

Andrea poked her head around the corner from the kitchen, "Of course, I'd prefer it actually."

Miranda smiled and climbed the stairs to her room. While they were out this afternoon, Cara had come and changed the sheets, dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned the bathroom. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and removed her belt. Her pants slipped to the floor, not even needing to be unzipped. She took her blouse off, leaving both on the floor next to her bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she slowly pulled her trouser socks off and removed her diamond earrings, her platinum watch, and her ruby ring, setting them on the nightstand on a small felted tray for such purpose. Sighing, she stood and walked over to the bathroom, wrapping her soft grey robe around her body before she sat at her vanity to remove her makeup.

Strange, how comfortable she was, removing her clothes in her bedroom with the door open. The possibility that someone might intrude had previously kept her in the habit of locking her bedroom door, even if she were alone. But with Andrea, it felt different. Miranda dropped the round cotton pads into the wastebasket, standing and examining herself in the mirror. No hair, no eyebrows; wrinkled, pale grey, dry complexion. Letting go of her robe, her full body came into view. Skeletal, bony; her breasts out of proportion with her too-thin frame; scars littered her chest, bruises and dry skin along her legs.

"Hey," Andrea said, stepping into the bedroom. "I brought some hot tea—you know you need to keep drinking."

Miranda quickly cinched her robe shut at the sound of the young woman's voice, jarring her from her thoughts. "Th—thank you. I think I'm going to take a bath," she said, reaching out and taking the mug from Andrea.

Andrea nodded. "Do you mind if I take a twenty-minute nap?" she asked. The expression on her face melted Miranda's heart. Her hand reached up and cupped the young woman's cheek.

"Of course, darling. Sleep as long as you need, I'll be fine. And thank you for the tea, this raspberry white oolong is my favorite, I think."

Andrea smiled and stepped away, climbing onto the bed and sinking into the pillow.

"Will it bother you if I play some music?" she called from the bathroom, standing in front of the small stereo with speakers built-in around the tub and shower.

"Nope," Andrea said. Soon, a quiet melody floated out of the bathroom, and Andrea was lulled to sleep by Tchaikovsky.

Miranda pushed the bathroom door closed, hesitating, leaving it cracked open. Sauntering towards the tub, she sat on the marble ledge and turned on the water. Steam billowed throughout the room as the large, oversized tub filled with water. Miranda arranged a towel over the ledge where she would rest her head, then turned the water off. Reaching into the small drawers adjacent to the tub, she opened a jar and took a scoopful of lavender bath salts. To them, she added a few drops of rosewood, vetivert, and clary sage essential oils before swirling the mixture in the hot water. Setting the glass scoop on a small towel inside the drawer, she closed it and stood.

Her robe fell to the floor as she stepped into her hot, relaxing bath. She took a few deep breaths, inhaling the luxurious aroma as she felt her skin begin to tingle. She closed her eyes and continued breathing…in through her nose…out through her mouth.

The calming effect of essential oils pleasantly surprised Miranda, helping her to clear her mind and focus on one thing alone: love. She couldn't remember when she and Andrea had first started saying "I love you," to each other, but she knew that whatever she meant by it then was not what she means when she says it now. It felt natural to say she loved Andrea. She had always cared about the young woman and felt a certain sense of protectiveness and gratitude towards her, not unlike how she felt towards her own daughters, or someone like her aunt. But that familial love wasn't exactly what she felt towards Andrea; Andrea was far from being a daughter to her. So, she thought, what was different about her? The phrase 'platonic love' came to mind, but while others often referred to any sort of chaste, non-sexual love in that way, Miranda always remembered the true meaning, from Plato's _Symposium_. Platonic love was indeed, love without sexual intimacy, but it was more about loving another person because of their intelligence and virtue, and both of you loving something greater than yourselves: beauty. Platonic love, in Miranda's mind, was always a _smart_ love, though not as concerned with supporting the other or making them happy. That was also not how she would categorize her love for Andrea.

Today, she felt more passion towards the young woman than she had felt in the past decade. Her skin was on fire; a shiver ran through her inside. With each breath this afternoon, she wanted to devour Andrea, all of her. In short: she wanted sexual intimacy with her young assistant, and she felt Andrea wanted it, too. But, how did she get to that place, she wondered. Andrea was kind, caring, and supportive. She was efficient and resourceful, determined to keep Miranda's best interests in mind at all times. Tears began to form in her eyes as she slowly remembered how Andrea had been at her side through it all—holding her hand, scheduling doctors, refusing to leave, holding her while she cried. Could it be that the only reason she was attached to Andrea was because there was no one else around? No one to talk to, let alone hold her while she cried or empty her drains after surgery. She was paying this woman to take care of her, and now, now she loved her. It felt so right, so natural to be in Andrea's arms.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but her bathwater was growing cool. Draining about half of the water out, she turned the hot faucet on and added some mild bubble bath as she refilled the tub. She wasn't ready to get out—she was too relaxed at the moment. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and rested against the curvature of the tub.

"Miranda?" Andrea called, gently knocking on the bathroom door. "Is everything going okay?"

"Wh—yes, it's fine," she said, "did you need me?"

"No, it's just been almost two hours, and I, uh just wanted to check."

"Oh," she said. "Time must have slipped away. You can open the door," she added.

Andrea pushed the door open and a smile crossed her face. Miranda was up to her neck in bubbles, looking utterly relaxed. "Well, you look quite content," she said, taking a few steps closer to the bathtub.

"It's incredibly relaxing," she hummed. "Andrea?" she asked, sitting up slightly and looking at the young woman, "Would you—I mean—you can join me if you'd like." Immediately after saying it, she regretted her words. Andrea pushed her away downstairs, and she still hadn't figured out why. "It's just a bath," Miranda added, trying to make the offer less suggestive. "It will help you sleep tonight," she said.

"You're okay with that?" Andrea asked, her voice choking on her words.

"Sure," Miranda said, moving forward and hugging her knees, turning to face the wall, directing the young woman to sit behind her. A minute later, she felt Andrea step into the tub, her long legs stretching out along Miranda's sides. Andrea laid a washcloth across her chest since all the bubbles were up front near Miranda, and gently coaxed the other woman to lean back with a slight nudge on her shoulder.

"Is this comfortable for you?" she asked Miranda.

"Yes, much more so than the porcelain tub," she said. As she laid against Andrea's chest, she was again overwhelmed by the need to have the young woman's hands on her. She reached up and took Andrea's hands from the ledge of the tub, guiding them to rest across her stomach, her own hands on top.

Miranda's thoughts drift to the young woman behind her and how she has been affected by the pas six months. She couldn't imagine how she would feel if she had to watch someone go through diagnosis, surgery, and chemo every single day, twenty-four hours a day. One thing is certain, she would need time to decompress, but as far as she knows, Andrea really hasn't had that time.

"Andrea," Miranda said after several minutes of silence. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why?" she responded.

"Well, just all this…we never really talk about you," Miranda said quietly, her hand brushing the back of Andrea's.

"I'm fine."

"I don't think so," Miranda said. "What's been going on in that head of yours?"

Andrea sighed, tightening her arms around Miranda before she answered. "I've been thinking about my sister, and how I was here for you and not for her. I resented her for being selfish, for taking my mother's attention and wearing my mom down with her constant care."

"I'm so sorry," Miranda said, genuinely empathizing with the woman. "You know, you were still a kid then."

"That doesn't excuse my actions or my attitude," she said.

"Have you spoken with her—or your mother—recently?"

"My mom's birthday was in May. We exchanged a few emails. I couldn't bring myself to tell her I was caring for you. I felt so ashamed."

"Darling, you have nothing to be ashamed about. You have been so incredible towards me—and my family—and I've said before that I don't know if I would have made it this far without you. Never be ashamed for doing what you think is right," she said.

"I suppose," Andrea said, pressing her lips to Miranda's neck in a soft kiss, sending a shiver through Miranda's body.

"I have to get out," she said with a sigh. "I know you're going to think it's because of what you just did, but it's not. I—I need to take some anti-nausea medication," she said.

Andrea watched as Miranda climbed out of the bathtub, suds clinging to her skin. She quickly toweled off and wrapped her robe around her body, stepping out to the mini-pharmacy that had become her dresser top. Andrea followed suit, stepping out and draining the tub, wrapping her body tightly in a giant towel.

TBC…

A/N: Sorry for the short update... I promise more soon. Thanks to all who've reviewed and continued to review! xx


	8. Chapter 8

Note: Just to be safe…this chapter is rated M )

* * *

Over the next week, Miranda endured the horrid side effects of her treatment for what she hoped was the last time with Andrea faithfully at her side. Miranda was growing increasingly worried about the dry and flaky condition of her skin, which none of her moisturizers seemed to be able to cure. Andrea messaged Emily, who was able to obtain two jars of Creme De La Mer and a case of Chantecaille's Nano Gold Energizing Cream, both opulent, _expensive_ creams that Miranda hadn't ever even used before.

As Andrea massaged the luxurious moisturizers down her arms and legs, Miranda held her breath. As much as she loved the way Andrea's hands felt trailing across her limbs, she longed for a day when she would no longer need these added measures.

"How are you feeling today?" Andrea asked.

"Okay. Better, a little achy, but that's about it."

"That's good," she said, rubbing her own hands together, reaping the benefits of the luxurious moisturizers. "Would you like to do anything today? I was thinking we could take a drive through the park. Some of the leaves are starting to change, and it's nearly sixty degrees today."

"That would be nice," Miranda said. "But first, I think I need to call Caroline and Cassidy." Miranda leaned over and softly kissed Andrea on the cheek before climbing out of bed and selecting some jeans and a loose turtleneck sweater. Andrea also got up and dressed, heading downstairs to make some tea and toast.

After dressing, Miranda washed her face and applied a lightly tinted moisturizer and some lip gloss before tying a deep plum scarf around her head. She knew Andrea was downstairs, but something told her she needed to call her daughters alone. The uncertainty of their response was eating at Miranda, and she needed to think clearly. Walking to the study, Miranda shut the door and sat at her desk, dialing James and Tess' home number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Tess," Miranda said, "how are you?"

"Oh, hey Miranda. We're doing great. How have you been?"

"It's been up and down, but you know, I had my last chemo a week or so ago, and I'm really starting to feel better," she said.

"That's great," Tess said, genuinely glad Miranda was doing better. "Would you like to speak to Car or Cass?"

Miranda cringed at the woman's shortening of her daughters' names, but bit her tongue, knowing she was there for the girls, providing them with a home. "Yes, are they available?"

"Sure, one sec," she said. Miranda heard her cover the mouthpiece on the receiver as she called for Caroline.

"Mom?" Caroline asked.

"Hi my darling, how have you been?"

"I'm feeling much better, Bobbsey. I'm all done with chemo, and just have some infusions to do over the next few months."

"Did your hair come back?"

"No, not yet," she said, "but it will soon. How has school been going this year?"

"It's good. We have really nice teachers, and we both just made the dance team."

"That's wonderful, I'm so proud of you. I miss you and your sister so much."

"We miss you, too, Mom," Caroline said. "Dad said Andy was staying with you to help out."

"Yes, she's been taking really good care of me while I was sick. It's been nice having her around."

"Yeah, she's cool."

"Darling, I'd really like to see you and your sister soon, and maybe talk about when you'll come home," Miranda said.

"Oh," Caroline said, "yeah, maybe we can come over next weekend to say hi!" she added enthusiastically.

"I would really enjoy that," Miranda said. "Is your sister there?"

"Sure, let me get her," Caroline said.

"Wait—Caroline, I love you, sweetie."

"I know. I love you, too, Mom," she said, "Here's Cass."

"Hi Mom," Cassidy said, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, feeling a lot better now that chemo is over," she said. "Your sister said you made the dance team?"

"Yeah! There were so many girls trying out. We have our own warm-up jackets now."

"Wow," Miranda said, rolling her eyes as she thought of the nylon-blend clothing, "I'm so proud of you," she said.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Bobbsey, would you and your sister like to come visit soon? I miss you a lot—it's quiet around here. And maybe we can talk about when you two can come home."

"Yeah, I miss you too. We'll talk to Mo—I mean _Tess_—and Dad and see when we can come."

Miranda's heart broke as her daughter corrected herself after referring to her stepmother as "Mom." Taking a deep breath, she kept her voice calm, "That would be wonderful. I would really like you girls to come home anytime. You're always welcome here."

"Thanks Mom. It's actually been good here with Dad. Tess is really nice, and she takes care of us really well. Don't worry," she added, "she doesn't let us eat sugary stuff, but she's just so much nicer than any of Dad's other girlfriends were."

"That's good," Miranda said, "I'm glad she's been there for you."

"We've been really happy here. Natasha and Julie live down the street from Dad, too. Did you know that? We can walk to their house—it's so cool!"

"Oh wow, I didn't realize that. That is nice," Miranda said. "Okay, Cassidy, is your dad there?"

"Sure, want me to go get him?"

"Yes, please. I'll talk to him about when you girls can visit and come home. And darling, I love you very much, please remember that."

"I know, Mom. Love you, too. Here's Dad," she said.

"Miranda? Tess said chemo was over, how have you been?"

"Hi James. I'm doing good. I really miss the girls. I want them to come home," she said, cutting to the quick.

"Wow, well, Miranda. You know they just started the schoolyear last month. It was hard enough last year when they had to move mid-quarter."

"James, I have custody of our children, if you remember."

"Yes, but Miranda, you said yourself you didn't want them to see you like this. Are you even going back to work yet?"

"No. No, I'm not. But that's it—for once in my life, I'm home all day. I can be there for them when they wake up and there when they get out of school."

"But how long will it last?" James asked. "A few months? Then you'll be at _Runway_ for eighteen or twenty-hour days, making up for what you missed."

"That's not true," Miranda said. "James, I want to see them."

"Okay, okay," he said. "How about Tess and I talk with them tonight at dinner. We'll plan to come by sometime this week, and we can see what the girls think about coming to visit you on the weekends."

"Weekend visits?!" Miranda practically shouted, "James, that is absurd!"

"Miranda, you need to take care of yourself," James said. "This is not about me trying to keep them from you. I care about them, just like you do, and I've seen how distanced they were when they first came here. They want you to get better just like any of us. And you know, if you push yourself too much, you'll just take steps backward."

Miranda sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"It's not about being right," James added. "It's about what's best for you—and what's best for the girls."

"Okay, okay," she said. "Any day this week is fine. I don't really know the girls' schedule, so…"

"They are off on Wednesday for a teacher's institute," he said. "I'm sure Tess would be willing to drop them off."

"Thank you," Miranda said.

"You're welcome. Miranda," he added, "I'm glad that you're doing better. I wish I could have been more supportive throughout everything."

"Don't be silly," she said, "you are taking care of my babies, and I am forever grateful for that."

"Thanks for calling today," he said. "I'll call you later this week to confirm plans for Wednesday."

"Thank you, James. Talk to you soon," she said, hanging up the phone before laying her head down on the desk.

The girls seemed to be happy, she thought. Happy without her. She wondered if they were better off with Tess than with her. Tess probably showered them with hugs and kisses, thinking they didn't get that from her. Tess was probably the perfect housewife, packing lunches, pressing uniforms, having dinner ready every night. Miranda knew she couldn't compete with that and keep her career, but if the girls were happy…

Miranda was startled from her thoughts by a soft knocking at the door. "Miranda? Can I come in?" Andrea called softly from the other side of the door.

"Yes," Miranda said, lifting her head from the desk.

Andrea came in with a cup of tea and a plate of toast and almond butter. "Here's your breakfast," she said, walking over to the desk and sitting in one of the chairs across from Miranda.

Miranda nodded and took the mug from her hand. "I just spoke with the girls." She paused, expecting Andrea to ask a question. When she did not, Miranda continued, "They're happy. James wants them to stay there a while longer."

While Andrea actually agreed with James, she knew Miranda needed reassurance. "I'm so sorry," she said, "I know how much you wanted them home."

"I think they're going to come by on Wednesday for a visit," she said.

"That will be nice," Andrea added. "I can run to the store or something while they're here."

"No," Miranda said, setting her cup down and looking the young woman in the eye. "No, you don't have to leave," she said, "I want you here."

"Okay," Andrea said, not really wanting to get into an argument.

Andrea sat with her hands in her lap as Miranda ate the toast and finished her tea. "I don't really feel like leaving the house today," Miranda said.

"Okay," Andrea said. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you. Let's just go sit on the couch or something."

Andrea smiled as Miranda stood and took her hand, leading her towards the large sofa in front of the window. Andrea sat, positioning herself in the corner of the couch so Miranda could curl up against her. It was easily their favorite position on the couch, and one Miranda often fell asleep in, her arms wrapped around Andrea's waist.

"So," Andrea said, "what are you thinking about?"

"Of course you would ask," Miranda said, chuckling. "Have you ever read _Stranger in a Strange Land_, Andrea?"

"No, but I've heard of it."

"It's an interesting book, as science fiction written many years ago always is. But one thing I will never forget is how Heinlein defined love: 'Love is when the happiness of another is essential to your own.'"

"Wow," Andrea said, "That's—I like it."

"I always liked it, but I always thought of myself as the beloved—that someone else cared that much about my happiness. Now, it's quite different, as I'm putting my daughters' happiness above all else. Despite my selfish desire for them to come home, I want them to be happy, and I know they are very happy with James. Without me."

"Miranda, you can't think like that. They are just kids, and you know they aren't thinking of things in those terms. They will always love you," Andrea said.

"I suppose you are right, but I'm just so emotional right now," she said. "I want them here, I want to be the one making them happy, I want to be holding them and kissing them and having dinner with them."

"Can I ask you a question?" Andrea said.

"Of course."

"Are you happy?"

"Ha!" Miranda said, "Mostly, not. But I guess it comes and goes. You?"

"Yeah, the same. But I don't ever remember being truly one or the other—I mean, except when I was a kid and didn't think in abstract terms," Andrea said.

"I was happy _once_," Miranda said, "when I was first named Editor in Chief. James and I had just been married, and my career skyrocketed. It was bliss, Andrea," she said, recalling that time of her life with a smile. "I had everything I wanted." She paused. "Then, I got pregnant, quite unexpectedly, and after about three months of hiding it, there was a photo of me pulling over to vomit as I was driving to work that found its way onto Page Six, alongside a photo showing a questionable bulge. I can still picture the headline when I close my eyes: 'Evil Spawn Too Much for Devil Herself.' I know it's ridiculous, but in that moment, I suddenly regretted my decision not to terminate the pregnancy. Even after they were born, I had a really hard time. It was a strain on our marriage, mostly because James and the nanny were raising the kids. I suffered from postpartum depression quite badly, though I was too ashamed and scared of the press to seek treatment. I couldn't even touch my own children without feeling that I was _tainting_ them somehow."

"Oh my god, Miranda, I had no idea," Andrea said, wrapping her arms tightly around the other woman.

"No one did, really, except Nigel. I finally started seeing a therapist and taking antidepressants, and eventually it worked. It was as if something clicked, because one day I couldn't touch them, and the next day I felt love for them, hugging and kissing them. Even now," Miranda added, "I feel that they deserve better. They deserve a real family; I can't be the mother they need. They deserve to be happy. No child should ever have to be unhappy. I've never been able to give them that, and I fear I never will."

"Oh Miranda, I know they know how much you love them. They were happy with you, you have to know that," Andrea said, kissing the top of Miranda's head softly as she rubbed her hands up and down Miranda's arms.

"I love them so much, Andrea, it hurts. It makes me jealous or something when I hear them say how happy they are with Tess," Miranda said, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I think that's pretty normal, Miranda. Your girls are smart—they know how you feel and they would never hurt you."

"I guess you're right," she said. "Let's change the subject." After a few minutes of silence, Andrea spoke.

"Do you love me like you love them?" Andrea asked. "Wait—I can't ask you that. I'm sorry," she said quickly, releasing Miranda from her arms.

The older woman quickly turned around to face Andrea. "Why would you ask me that?"

Andrea hid her face in her hands, ashamed she let her insecurity show. "I'm sorry. I just sometimes wonder what we actually mean when we say we love each other. What kind of love we have."

Miranda smiled. Apparently the young assistant had been having similar thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Miranda decided she needed to try and straighten things out. "Darling, I am not the person to be defining love," she said, "but I know that what I feel for you goes far beyond caregiving. You, I don't know, set my soul at ease or something. It's that feeling when you walk into a room, nothing else matters to me. And I know I've been selfish lately, but that will change, I promise you."

"You love me like that?" Andrea said, shocked.

Miranda paused for a moment. "Yes. Yes I do," she said, cupping Andrea's cheek with her hand.

"But—but—" Andrea stammered.

"It was not until the day I pushed you away that I truly realized my feelings for you. I never told you, but that day at chemo, I talked with a therapist. I'm fairly certain that Dr Weber sent her in to figure out where you were, because he noticed such a change in me. It was eye-opening for me, Andrea. In that one thirty-minute conversation, it was as if I learned how to think about something through another's eyes. How to stop being selfish for just one minute. I've always thought about you, but it was the general care and concern sort of thoughts. I'm sorry but I never once attempted to imagine what you were thinking, what you were going through. I promise you that's changed."

"Oh Miranda," she said, "you didn't have to change anything. I loved you just the way you were." Andrea reached up and wrapped her arms around her, kissing her softly on the cheek. Their eyes met, and Miranda could see the desire in Andrea's rich brown eyes, but suddenly, Andrea pulled away.

"Andrea," Miranda said, her eyes staring down at her hands, folded in her lap, "I know I don't look beautiful right now, and that I don't always wear makeup, and that my skin is dry and stiff, but please, give me a chance," she said as tears pooled in her eyes. "Once my hair grows back, and—"

Andrea's eyes were wide, and it took her several seconds to find her voice, cutting Miranda short. "No, no, no, no," she said, cupping Miranda's cheek and tilting her head upwards. "Why would you ever think that? Miranda, I think you might even be _more _beautiful like this, bare and stripped down."

"But—you always pull away from me," Miranda said.

"Because I never want to push you too far," Andrea said. "Your body has been through hell, and I know you've been tired, achy, and in pain. The last thing you must want is for me to—"

"Oh goddd," Miranda moaned. "I won't break. Your hands have been the only thing that made me feel good these past months. You set my body on fire, I just thought you didn't like the way I looked," she admitted.

"I'm so sorry you thought that. You're so beautiful," she said, looking deeply into her eyes. Miranda crawled onto Andrea's lap, straddling her legs, passionately kissing the younger woman as she pushed her back into the couch. Miranda moaned quietly as Andrea's tongue circled her own, Miranda's moan quickening her pulse as a shiver ran through her body.

Andrea pulled back, leaning in and kissing Miranda several times on the cheek. "Would you be okay if we took this to the bedroom?" she asked.

A grin spread across Miranda's face as she jumped off Andrea's lap and took her hand, leading her to the bed. Miranda pranced on her tip-toes, her desire for the young woman outweighing any doubts.

Miranda stopped, standing next to the bed, and reached for the hem of Andrea's shirt, slowly sliding it upward as her hands brushed against the young woman's soft abdomen. Andrea pulled the shirt over her head while Miranda reached down to undo her pants, pushing them to the ground. There was her dark-haired assistant, standing before her in black lace lingerie, her nipples taut against the thin fabric of her bra. Andrea reached over and unbuckled Miranda's thin belt and unzipped her jeans, tugging them to the floor as she trailed kisses down Miranda's legs. Her hot breath against Miranda's oversensitive skin made her knees weak.

Andrea stood up, taking Miranda's sweater with her, softly lifting it over her head. Miranda was wearing practical lingerie, all silk, of course. Andrea wrapped her arms around the woman, slowly lifting her onto the center of the bed.

"My god, you're beautiful," Andrea whispered as she pulled the plum scarf off her head, softly kissing her temple. Andrea continued, traveling further down Miranda's body with her lips, nibbling and sucking on her pulse points while applying feather-light kisses to her scars from surgery. The lower Andrea got, the more intense her desire, and also Miranda's, she imagined, if the woman's writhing on the bed meant anything.

"Can I take these off?" Andrea asked, gently looping her finger under the waistband of Miranda's panties.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

Andrea slid the nude silk boyshorts down and flung them to the floor. She felt Miranda's body tense at the sudden loss of coverage, so Andrea gently pulled back the sheets, "Let's get under the covers," she said, "It's chilly in here." She may have lied about the temperature, but it was clear that Miranda was much more comfortable with the added privacy of the bed covers, seeing that she removed her bra and tossed it to the floor the minute she slipped between them.

Andrea curled up alongside Miranda's body in the same position she has been sleeping for the past few months. Softly kissing her cheek and resting her head on the woman's shoulder, Andrea let her hand travel across Miranda's bare skin, starting with the top of her head. She nuzzled her neck as her hand moved from the woman's shoulder, down the space between her breasts, back up around each breast, as she slowly bent down to take her right nipple in her mouth, sucking ever so gently.

Not once in her life had someone made love to her. Never did any of her husbands spend time worshipping every inch of her body in the way Andrea was. Never had she been so aroused from such innocent foreplay.

Andrea leaned over to devote some attention to her other nipple while she let her hand travel further, across her abdomen, around each of her hips, and down her thighs. Miranda groaned in frustration, thrusting her hips forward, begging for the woman's touch. Andrea ducked under the covers and began kissing Miranda's torso, trailing lower and lower until she finally pressed her lips to Miranda's folds. Her own body was on fire as she settled in between Miranda's legs, licking and sucking, listening to the sweet, quiet moans coming from the woman.

Andrea pressed her thumb against her clitoris as she continued her ministrations, feeling Miranda's hot juices against her mouth as the woman's muscles clenched tightly in rapid succession. Andrea quickly kissed her way up Miranda's body, keeping her hand between her legs as she laid next to her, softly kissing her neck. "So beautiful," Andrea whispered, "I love you so much, Miranda."

Miranda reached her arms around the young woman, kissing her while pulling her close. "I love you, too, darling," Miranda said, her hand reaching down, cupping Andrea's sex through her lacy thong.

"Oh fuck, Miranda," she panted.

Miranda slipped her hand inside the wet panties, her cold fingers making the woman's core seem like it was on fire. She traced her finger in a circle around the woman's folds before plunging two fingers inside and pulling them out, repeating the motions until Andrea was panting and moaning so loudly she couldn't take it. The young woman reached down and directed Miranda's hand to rub her clitoris furiously for a bit before going back to inserting her fingers. In no time, Andrea was wailing as her walls clamped down on Miranda's fingers.

They lay there, sprawled out under the sheets for several minutes. "Thank you," Miranda said, resting her head on the brunette's shoulder. "That was amazing. I didn't—I mean—I couldn't—" she sighed in frustration, unable to find the words. "I love you," she said, finally.

"Miranda, you don't have to thank me for loving you," she said, softly dancing her fingertips across Miranda's abdomen.

"I definitely found my new favorite thing to do on Sunday afternoons," Miranda said.

"Just Sundays?" Andrea asked, pouting.

"No, of course not," Miranda said, smiling. "This just beats a drive in the park."

"Yes, yes it does," Andrea said as she pulled the duvet tighter around them and the fell asleep, their hearts intertwined.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Looking over, Miranda smiled at the brown hair that spilled across the pillow next to her. Smiling, she realized it was already late morning—they must have slept at least ten hours.

"Good morning, darling," Miranda purred, her lips inches from Andrea's ear.

"Mmmh," Andrea moaned, smiling as she pulled Miranda closer, her eyes still shut, blocking out the light.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, slept in for once," Andrea said.

"I'm sorry if I've been depriving you of your lazy mornings," Miranda said. "Actually, I'm going to take a shower, so you can stay in bed even longer if you'd like."

Andrea reached out for Miranda's wrist as she started to climb out of bed. "Can I join you?" she asked.

Miranda turned to look at her, lips pursed, eyebrow raised. "Wh-what?" she spat.

"Oh, uh, nothing," Andrea said, turning her eyes downward, "I just wanted to know what you'd like for breakfast."

"Oh," Miranda said, shaking her head as she kept walking toward the bathroom, "I'll have anything, you decide." She quickly shut the bathroom door behind her, turning the lock as she pressed her forehead against the wood surface. Yes, they were intimate yesterday, but the shower was well-lit. There were several mirrors in the bathroom, and there would be no way for her to hide her insecurities. Showering was and would remain a private experience for Miranda.

Andrea slowly got up. She saw how Miranda freaked when she suggested they shower together, but decided to let it go. Miranda needed to learn how to express her emotions, while she tried to figure out how to be suggestive and supportive without crossing a line. With Miranda safely tucked away in the bathroom, she tiptoed to the guest room, slipped on some silk pajamas and a robe, then headed downstairs to make breakfast.

In the bathroom, Miranda turned the water off, drying her body with a towel. She knew the hot water wasn't very good for her skin, but the streams of searing hot liquid were, in a sense, therapeutic for her. She applied moisturizer to her face, but decided not to put on any makeup, deciding to let her skin breathe.

When she stepped out into the bedroom, she was honestly surprised she didn't find Andrea still in bed. Over the past few months, she had come to realize that if given the opportunity, Andrea would sleep in until noon. Miranda smiled at the thought of the young woman. She slipped into her panties and a support camisole, then tied her grey robe tightly around her before heading downstairs, choosing not to get dressed just yet. Delicious aromas of coffee, bacon, and butter drifted up the staircase, and she hadn't realized how hungry she was until her stomach began growling at the delicious smells.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of this—" Miranda said, peering into the kitchen to see what Andrea was making "—carnivorous breakfast?"

"I was extra-hungry this morning," she said. "Is this okay? It's turkey bacon, whole-wheat toast, egg whites with spinach, and some cappuccino made with fresh cream."

"That sounds marvelous," Miranda said, taking her seat at the kitchen table.

Andrea plated their food, and the two women ate in relative silence, both hungry and unsure how to start conversation. Miranda's phone buzzed, and she excused herself to go retrieve it from the foyer. Andrea could tell by the smile on her face that she received some sort of good news.

"It's James. Tess is going to bring the girls over at 10 AM on Wednesday. He says they have a test on Thursday, so they can't stay past 4, but Tess will also be home all day if they need to go home earlier," Miranda said. She sat back down at the table and rested her head in her hands. "What if I can't connect with them anymore? It's been so long," she said. "And I don't even know where to begin if they ask about the cancer. How does one talk to a ten-year-old about that?"

"Miranda," Andrea said, wrapping her arm around the woman's shoulder, "First, they're eleven. Next, I'm sure that James and Tess have talked with the girls a lot. In a way, they had the hard part."

Miranda looked up and chastely kissed the young woman's lips, "What would I do without you?" she said.

"Well, Miranda, I don't think you need to worry about that. Let's decide on a menu for lunch tomorrow so Cara can pick it up from the market today. And then you have to decide what to wear…" Andrea smiled. "Everything will be fine."

Over the next two days, the two women (with the help of Cara) prepared the house for the girls' arrival. Miranda wanted the house to feel like home for the girls, not too pristine, but she also didn't want them to see any of her medications or paperwork.

"Miranda," Andrea began. They were seated upstairs in the study, Miranda on the couch and Andrea behind Miranda's desk, helping Emily send some emails. "What are you going to tell the girls about me?"

"What do you mean?" Miranda asked.

"Well, do they know I've been staying here?"

"Yes. They know you've been taking care of me."

"But," Andrea continued, "they think I'm still your assistant."

"Well, yes. You _are_ my assistant, Andrea," Miranda said. "Or, did you forget?" she asked, smiling.

"Seriously, Miranda," Andrea pushed, "Aren't they going to think it's a little odd for your assistant to be so close with you?"

"Please," Miranda droned, "tell_ me _how to speak to _my_ children."

"You know, just forget it," Andrea said, standing up from the desk and walking towards the door.

"Wait—don't go," Miranda said, her voice quivering. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please, come talk to me."

Andrea paused and turned around to sit on the sofa next to Miranda. "I'm sorry, too," she said, "I said I wouldn't push you, but I did."

"No, I get that you want something more, I just…" Miranda's voice trailed off as she began crying. "I love you, I do. I just don't know how things are going to go with the girls, and I don't want to overwhelm them with anything."

Andrea pulled Miranda into an embrace, allowing the woman to cry on her shoulder while she soothingly traced circles on her upper arm. "Okay, it's okay," she whispered. "You probably won't have to tell the girls anything if they already know I've been here helping you. If they ask, maybe you can say something obvious, like we've gotten to be friends because we were spending 24/7 together."

Miranda nodded. "But," she sniffled, "you want something more, I can tell."

"Yes, to be honest, I am a little anxious about what's going to happen in a few weeks when your treatment is over. I'm still on _Runway_'s payroll, but I don't think I can officially be your assistant anymore. Will I need to find a new job? How long will I have to look? What if I can't find anything here?"

"Whoa, whoa," Miranda said, pulling away and looking Andrea closely in the eye. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together, okay?" Miranda softly brushed Andrea's cheek, adding, "One thing I've learned from this whole experience is not to plan too far into the future."

"Miranda, you're going to be fine. You heard what the doctor said," Andrea said, concerned.

"I know, I know. Let's just take this one day at a time, okay?" She leaned in, pulling Andrea into a deep, passionate kiss.

The next morning when Andrea woke up, Miranda's hand was securely tucked inside the waistband of her pants, resting comfortably against her lower abdomen. Andrea woke Miranda, and they each went to shower, Miranda mentally preparing for seeing her daughters again, while Andrea thought of excuses to give Miranda time alone with the girls.

The doorbell rang, and Miranda walked over to answer it while Andrea sat on the stairs. Miranda looked stunning today, Andrea noted. She wore a heavy wool Ralph Lauren sweater dress with tights, both hiding her bony frame and accentuating her curves. Miranda had intended to wear her heels, but even her lower Tory Burch heels were proving difficult to walk in. Andrea reassured her that she simply wasn't used to heels, and convinced her to wear her Chanel quilted black bowtie flats.

When Miranda opened the door, both girls quietly walked in, turning to Miranda and saying "Hi Mom" before they stepped past her and into the foyer. Andrea quickly pulled the girls aside and helped to take their jackets while Miranda spoke with Tess.

"Miranda," Tess said, pulling her into an awkward embrace. Miranda never imagined she would be hugging her ex-husband's wife. "I've been praying for you, lighting candles at church faithfully every week. It's so good to see you looking so bright and healthy," she said. "I've really grown to love your daughters, but I want you to know that I never intend to replace you or to keep them from you—they've been asking about you every single day."

Miranda nodded, fighting back tears. "Thank you, Tess, I don't know what I would have done," she said, stopped by Tess's upraised hand. "I will bring them home by 4pm tonight," she said, smiling as Tess stepped out and shut the door.

Miranda turned around, taking a deep breath, trying not to read into the way the girls walked past her when they arrived. Andrea was talking with them in the den. "So is she really okay?" Caroline asked.

"Can I hug her?" Cassidy said.

"Yes, yes, my gosh," Andrea said. "Your mom is doing really well, and you're not going to hurt her. If I know her, I think she's missed your big bear hugs the most."

Both girls looked, wide-eyed at Andrea as Miranda entered the den. "My darling daughters," she said, tears filling her eyes as her twin girls came running towards her, practically knocking her over with their giant, strong hugs. Miranda smothered her girls with kisses, and Andrea slowly crept upstairs, grabbing her computer and heading to the guest bedroom. Miranda ushered the girls to the couch, realizing Andrea was no longer sitting there.

"What does it feel like?" Cassidy asked, snuggling up alongside her mother.

"Does it hurt?" Caroline also asked.

Miranda took a deep breath, knowing she would have to explain the details to her ever-curious daughters before anything else. "The surgery was the worst pain of my life," she said, "and then chemo made me sick, and I wasn't hungry, but then I was getting sicker because I couldn't eat or drink, but" she paused and kissed each daughter on the forehead, "that's all over, and I'm feeling a lot better now."

"So do you still have cancer?" Caroline asked.

"No," Miranda said, exhaling a deep sigh. "No, I am cancer-free. But the doctor wants me to take a little more medicine to make sure I stay that way." The girls met her with quizzical looks. "You know how if the doctor gives you antibiotics for something, he says to make sure you take it for the full ten days, even if you're feeling better? This is similar. Even though I'm feeling better, I have to keep taking medicine to make sure that cancer doesn't develop in any remaining tissue."

"So is this why you want us to come home?"

"Bobbsey, I've missed you so much," she said, "but it's not fair to you to see me so sick or to know that I'm home, but upstairs in my room resting. Yes, I would love for you to come back now that the tough part is over, but I know that you have school and sports and friends—I wouldn't make you disrupt that."

"We talked to Dad," Cassidy said. "He said it was up to us—and that we shouldn't let you guilt us into coming home." She and her sister both giggled at that while Miranda rolled her eyes, thinking how typical it was for her ex-husband to say that. "So," she continued, "can we move back home in June as soon as school is over?"

Miranda quickly did the math in her head—_eight months_! "Yes, of course, Bobbsey," Miranda said, hugging her daughter as she held back her own tears. "Hopefully we can see each other a little in-between?"

"Yes!" they both shouted. "We have lots of time on the weekends, then there's Thanksgiving, Christmas break, spring break…oh, and we can text you every day, Mom."

"Excuse me? You have _cell phones_?"

"Yeah, Dad got us one to share so we could be safe afterschool or if we're at a friend's house."

Miranda nodded and kicked her feet up on the coffee table as the girls continued to fill her in on every last detail that she missed.

Shortly before one o'clock, Andrea came downstairs. "Is everyone ready for lunch?" she asked as she walked towards the kitchen. The three Priestly women nodded enthusiastically as Andrea made four grilled goat cheese, beet, and arugula sandwiches, and heated up the potato leek soup. At the table, Andrea set three glasses and silverware. She poured the water, then returned to the kitchen to plate their sandwiches and ladle out the soup.

Miranda and the girls took their seats at the table while Andrea wandered back into the corner of the kitchen, eating alone as she stood at the counter.

"Andrea, are you joining us?" Miranda called.

"No, I'm, uh, just finishing up in here," she said. Miranda knew the young woman was lying, but wasn't sure why. Didn't they decide she would tell the girls she had become friends with her assistant if it came up?

Andrea wasn't very hungry and decided to wash some of the dishes and clean up.

"Mom," Cassidy asked, "does Cara still come around?"

"Yes, but only three times a week to cook and clean."

"So why is Andy here?" she asked, confused. "You're not doing _Runway_ stuff, are you?"

"She's here because I need her," Miranda said, setting her utensils down. "I was very sick, and sometimes it was scary because I couldn't get myself out of bed, or I was too sick to walk to the bathroom, or I didn't want to take my medicine."

"So, she was, like, a nurse?"

"Well, yes, but she was so much more. She _is_ so much more," Miranda said. "She kept me company, she kept me out of my moods when I was getting depressed."

"I thought you despised your staff, Mom," Caroline said, "except of course Uncle Nigel."

Miranda took a deep breath, silently wishing Andrea was sitting with her, holding her hand. "This is different," she said. "Andrea is more like a very good friend to me now, kind of like Uncle Nigel. She came with me to my very first doctor appointment, and she held my hand." Miranda paused as she reflected on that first touch of the young girl's hand on hers. "And she has been here ever since," Miranda added.

"So, why don't you eat together?"

"We usually do, I think she's getting dessert ready right now," Miranda said, hearing the young woman pull the mixing bowls from the cabinet.

"Is she going to stay here forever?" Caroline asked.

"Do you want her to?" Miranda quickly replied.

"No. I mean, I don't want her to have to take care of you forever," she clarified. "I don't care if she's here. She's cool."

Miranda sighed. "You know, I would very much like for her to move in permanently. We have the space and she doesn't have family nearby, but it would have to be her choice."

"You love each other," Cassidy said, sounding very much like her mother in her blunt statement.

Miranda knew that was not a question. "How do you feel about me loving Andrea?" Miranda asked quietly.

"It would be nice to have her around," Cassidy said. Caroline nodded in agreement.

"You know I love you two more than anything, right? Now let's go make something for dessert, huh?" she said.

The girls eagerly followed Miranda into the kitchen where Andrea had mixing bowls, dry ingredients, and a mixer set out on the counter. Miranda locked eyes with Andrea before the young woman quickly slipped out of the kitchen with her grilled cheese sandwich.

"She still acts like your assistant," Cassidy observed.

"Technically, she still is," Miranda said. "I think she is just trying to give me time alone with you two love bugs, though."

The girls giggled as they began making triple-chocolate fudge cookies. Miranda wasn't even sure where they found all the chocolate to put into the cookies, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, so she didn't complain. They put two trays into the oven and set the timer, eager to taste the concoction they made.

Miranda closed her eyes for a moment, resting against the counter. She felt her legs twitching, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. "Girls, I'm going to go lie down for a few minutes while that bakes, okay?" The girls looked concerned, so Miranda continued, "I just need ten minutes. Why don't you see if there are any good movies on right now?" she said, gesturing towards the TV.

They nodded and Miranda slowly made her way upstairs, leaning heavily on the railing as she climbed step after step, slowly stumbling towards her bed. Andrea heard Miranda coming upstairs and set her laptop and plate on the dresser, stepping out of the guest room just in time to see Miranda collapse against the bed, but a little short, causing her to slide to her knees on the carpet. Andrea was immediately behind her, helping her up and onto the bed.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked.

Miranda took a deep breath, her eyes closed partly out of fatigue, partly from embarrassment. "I'm just really tired," she said as she sunk into the pillows.

"Okay," she said, softly squeezing Miranda's hand. "Just rest." Andrea walked over to the armoire across from the bed and opened the top doors, revealing a large television that Miranda rarely used. Andrea took the remote and turned on Ellen, leaving the remote at the foot of the bed before she went downstairs.

"Where's Mom?" Cassidy asked as soon as Andrea set foot on the first floor.

"She was really tired and needs a little rest. She's been busy in the past few days, more than what she's used to. The buzzer went off on the oven, so Andrea took the cookies out and set them on the baking rack to cool. "While these cool," she said, "why don't you go upstairs and watch TV with your mom?" They nodded and ran up to Miranda's bedroom while Andrea cleaned up the kitchen again. When the cookies were cooled, Andrea packed a treat bag for each of them in a small container, topping one with a Betsey Johnson bracelet and another with a BCBG bracelet. Knowing they needed to be home in about thirty minutes, Andrea headed back upstairs, pausing in the doorway as she watched the three Priestlys cuddled up, all three sleeping soundly.

Andrea texted Roy, then gently knocked on the bedroom door. Miranda's eyes opened first, and darting to look at the brunette, she smiled and mouthed 'thank you.' Andrea nodded, and Miranda woke the girls from their afternoon nap. "It's time to go, my darlings," she said, climbing out of bed.

"I can take them," Andrea offered, suddenly making her presence known. Miranda looked to the girls, but they just shrugged.

"That would be wonderful, Andrea, thank you," Miranda said. "Girls, I hope to see you very soon!"

"You will! Bye Mom, love you," they said. Andrea walked downstairs with them, handing them their coats as they examined their cookies and new bracelets.

The ride in the towncar over to James & Tess's house was relatively silent. Tess met them outside, ushering the girls in to start their homework. Just as Andrea was about to get back into the car, Tess took her hand. "I can see that you love her," she said. "Use this time to get closer. James and I will make sure the girls are okay with everything…and of course, we'll be very discreet."

Andrea was shocked, but realized even in the few moments Tess was in the townhouse, she must have been able to sense their connection. Thanking her, Andrea headed back to the townhouse, eager to wrap her arms around Miranda.

Sprinting up the stairs, Andrea practically ran into Miranda's room.

"Why didn't you eat lunch with us?!" Miranda shouted. Andrea froze where she was in the middle of the room. In all the time she's known Miranda, she never knew the woman to raise her voice.

"I'm sorry," Andrea choked out. "I wanted you to have time with them," she said, slowly walking over to her side of the bed.

"Just—get out of my bedroom!" Miranda shouted.

Andrea's jaw dropped, but she slowly stepped away, heading downstairs. While sitting by herself on the sofa in the den, Andrea realized Miranda needs to speak with a therapist. She clearly still has some issues to deal with, but Andrea couldn't begin to figure it out. Instead, Andrea just pulls further and further away, when that's probably the last thing Miranda needed.

A few hours later, Andrea made a cup of tea and carried it upstairs to Miranda. "Hi," she said, setting the teacup on the night stand. "Do you feel like coming down for dinner?" Andrea asked.

Miranda turned and buried her face in the pillow. "I don't understand what's going on," she said, her voice muffled. "I'm sorry, darling, you know I wouldn't push you away, I just, I don't know."

Andrea sat on the edge of the bed and rest her hand on Miranda's shoulder. "It's okay. I think—and don't take this the wrong way—but I think that we could both benefit from a therapist."

Miranda turned and looked at Andrea for a long time. "I think you're right," she said. "Together?"

Andrea hadn't actually thought about joint counseling, but the more she tossed the idea around, the better it sounded. Andrea smiled and leaned in to kiss Miranda.

"I love you, you know," Miranda said.

"I know. And I love you, too."

TBC… one or two more chapters, as I've said before, I don't have the attention span to keep writing a long story. thank you for reading! please r/r!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - (rated M for explicit language/situations)

Saturday morning, Miranda and Andrea had an appointment with Miranda's therapist. Andrea was a little anxious, knowing that this person probably knew Miranda better than anyone. She tried to convince Miranda that they should select a therapist from the list Dr Weber provided specifically for coping with cancer and its aftermath, but Miranda's glare said it all: any therapist was better than no therapist, and Miranda was not interested in sharing her feelings with a stranger.

"The girls have a dance competition upstate this weekend," Miranda said, reading a text message. "I told them good luck and to send us pictures."

"That's nice," Andrea said, pulling their coats from the closet. Andrea helped Miranda into hers before putting on her own and tying the belt.

"Does this hat look okay?" Miranda asked. It was quite cold that day, the wind chill as low as 20º F, and she knew she needed more than a silk scarf on her head. Miranda stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the navy blue Burberry silk scarf tied underneath her wool hat.

"Yes, Miranda," she said, standing behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist. "It looks perfect. Now let's go."

Miranda followed Andrea out the door and into the waiting car. Once they were situated and the car began moving, Miranda spoke. "Are you nervous, Andrea?"

"A little. You?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know it's only helpful if you're completely honest, but I've never done this with someone else." Miranda reached over and took Andrea's hand. "I don't want to scare you away with my insecurities."

Andrea chuckled and turned to face the woman. "Sweetheart, I've been dealing with your insecurities since February, and nothing is going to scare me away at this point. But," she added, taking Miranda's face in her hands, "I'm still a little nervous that if I'm honest with you, you'll draw away from me."

"Never," Miranda said, pulling Andrea in closely for a hungry kiss.

"Mirandaaa," Andrea moaned, pushing her away, "You're going to ruin our makeup."

"I suppose," Miranda pouted. "But can we continue where we left off after our appointment?"

"You bet," Andrea said as the car came to a stop in front of the therapist's office.

"Miranda, it's been years. You look wonderful!" she said.

"Grace," Miranda said as a general smile crossed her face, "Lovely to see you again." She leaned in and exchanged air-kisses with the older woman while Andrea stood near the door. "Grace, I'd like you to meet Andrea Sachs, my—uh—my…?" Miranda paused in frustration. Andrea was technically her assistant, but they were here together for more personal reasons.

"And I suppose that is exactly what we're here to talk about," she said, taking Andrea's hand warmly. "Hello, Andrea, I'm Dr Grace Cullerton, and I'm delighted to meet you."

"Likewise," Andrea said, shyly shaking her hand.

"Why don't you two hang your coats and I'll get something to drink—sparkling water okay?" They both nodded as Miranda handed her coat to Andrea to hang on the hooks near the door. Both women set their bags on the small bench underneath the coat hooks, and walked into the rather large room where Grace was pouring water. A fireplace in the corner and several eclectic vintage armchairs gave the room a homey feel. "Miranda, Andrea, why don't you each take a seat, she said, gesturing the the array of chairs near the fire.

Andrea wondered if she purposely chose to not have a sofa before realizing how inappropriate it would be to cuddle with Miranda right now.

"Okay, ladies, let me just remind you that anything said within this room is held in strictest confidence by me, and should be private amongst yourselves, too. Now, I want this all to be really informal, but we're still going to try to take turns speaking so everyone has a fair chance, yada, yada, yada. Do either of you have any questions before we begin?"

"No," Andrea said. Miranda shook her head as well.

"Okay, wonderful. There's a pitcher of water behind you if anyone needs a sip of water at any point. Now, Miranda, it's been a while. What brings you here today?"

"Well, uh," Miranda said, nervously looking over at Andrea, then back at Grace. "I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February and I took the past nine months off work for my treatment." When Grace didn't respond, Miranda kept talking. "I had a mastectomy and reconstruction, then chemotherapy. Now, I have a few herceptin infusions to go through, but then I'm good. I mean, cancer-free."

Grace nodded. "How has cancer impacted your everyday life, Miranda?"

"Well, the girls—my daughters, Caroline and Cassidy—are currently living with their father and his wife. I haven't been keeping in touch with them much, but saw them for the first time in months just two days ago. I miss them. I don't want to miss out on these years as they grow into adults, but I didn't want them to see me like this…the way Andrea has had to see me."

"Tell me a little more about that," Grace said.

"Well, I have been sick…weak. I couldn't do it alone. If it wasn't for Andrea, I don't know what…" Miranda said as tears began streaming down her face. Andrea reached over to a small side table and handed a tissue to Miranda.

"Andrea," Grace said, "tell me a little about yourself."

"Uh, I'm Miranda's assistant at _Runway_, and I've been working for her for nearly two years." Grace urged her to continue, so she did. "I came from a small family in Ohio, where my parents still live. My sister is a few years older than me, and she lives in Boston."

"What is your relationship with Miranda?" she asked.

Both Miranda and Andrea looked at Grace, wide-eyed. "Uh, I'm her assistant, like I said," Andrea stammered.

"Anyone can see there's something else," Grace said.

"I, uh, I've been staying with her and taking care of her. I care about her a lot." Andrea paused for a minute. "I love her," she said.

Miranda looked over and smiled sweetly at Andrea.

"Sometimes," Grace said, "we disguise other feelings as 'love,' especially when caring for someone."

"No. I mean, I know, but that's not it," Andrea clarified. "I began to care about Miranda long before her cancer diagnosis. It wasn't until we began spending more time together and had the opportunity to speak casually that I truly fell in love."

"Miranda? What is your relationship with Andrea?" Grace asked.

"Well, she's my assistant. My friend. My nurse. My lover," Miranda said with smirk. "I love her very much."

"So, it seems like you two don't need me then, huh?" Grace asked with a wry smile.

"I'm afraid Andrea will stop loving me," Miranda suddenly blurted out. "I mean, if I get better, if I go back to work and become obsessed with work again."

"Okay," Grace said, "What makes you think that?"

"She's perfect, always waiting on me, scheduling my appointments and making sure I take all my medicine, drink water, eat protein. I don't know what we would talk about if I wasn't sick."

"Surely you have more in common than your illness," Grace said. "When—not _if_—you get better, will Andrea continue to stay at your home?"

"I would like her to, but I cannot justify it. And then, it is unprofessional and irresponsible for me to be living in the same house as my assistant under normal circumstances," Miranda said.

"Miranda," Andrea interrupted, "Am I still going to be your assistant when this is over?"

"I, I don't know. I know we can't have this and you be my assistant, but I don't want to send you elsewhere, either," Miranda said.

"Miranda, was there ever a time in your life that you had someone by your side all day, everyday?" Grace asked.

"No. I mean, not until now."

"Have you ever wanted someone with you all day every day?" Grace asked.

"No. Never. I like having time to myself," Miranda said.

"When do you have time to yourself now?"

"Well," Miranda said, thinking, "I guess when I shower and get ready for the day. Otherwise, I'm with Andrea."

"What would you say if Andrea wanted to, I don't know, shower and get ready with you? Would that be alright?" Grace suggested.

"Uh, no, I just need time to be alone and that's the only time I can lock the door and be alone," she said, honestly.

"So, it sounds like you want to spend time with Andrea, but you don't want to spend every hour of the day with her. And that's not a bad thing, you've always been that way, and you just need some 'me' time, is that right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Miranda said.

"So what if you think about going to work as your 'me' time?" Grace suggested. You'll have some sort of morning routine, time alone in your office, and then when you return in the evening, time with Andrea."

Miranda took a deep breath. "I guess that could work."

"Okay, now Andrea," Grace said, "How do you feel about this?"

"I want whatever Miranda wants," Andrea said.

"I don't think so. Wants are personal. What do you want?" Grace asked.

"I want Miranda to be happy. If that arrangement makes her happy, then it works for me," Andrea said. "I guess I have been hovering a little bit."

"That I'm afraid once she goes back to work she won't need me anymore. That I'll slip into the background like her former husbands," Andrea said, fixing her eyes anywhere but on Miranda.

"Oh, darling, never," Miranda said, reaching over to put her hand on the armrest of Andrea's chair.

"What you say now and what you do in six months can be two different things," Andrea said. "I wish it wasn't that way."

"Okay," Grace said, "it sounds like, Andrea, you're looking for some kind of commitment from Miranda? And Miranda, you said earlier that you were worried Andrea would leave you once you got better…"

"Miranda—"

"Andrea—" they both spoke at the same time. "Andrea, I can promise you. We can figure it out."

"I know," Andrea said, "we will," she said.

"Well, ladies, our time is up for today, but I think we made remarkable progress for our first session," Grace said. "Be well, Miranda, Andrea," she said, as the two women stood and left the office. Andrea sent a quick text message to Roy as they approached the waiting car, asking him to drive them around the park for an hour or so.

"Miranda, I'm glad we did this today," she said. "Now, where were we before?" she said, wrapping her arm around the woman and pulling her close.

"I think I was kissing you," Miranda said as she climbed on Andrea's lap and pushed her back so she was laying flat on the seat. "If I'm going to be spending less time with you everyday, I think we need to be a little more active during the time we have," she said as she untied Andrea's coat, nuzzling her neck and palming her breasts as she tore her blouse open.

Andrea moaned and pulled Miranda's coat off, cupping Miranda's ass through her pleated, knee-length, leather skirt. "Did I tell you how hot you looked this morning?" Andrea said, slipping her hands under Miranda's skirt, feeling the tops of her thigh-high stockings before reaching her silky-smooth thighs. "Oh goooodddd," Andrea moaned as Miranda took her nipple in her mouth. "Miranda…please…oh god…suck me," she panted as Miranda began grinding her hips against Andrea's.

Her fingernails dug into Miranda's ass as she held the woman close. Miranda met Andrea's gaze, her eyes hooded with desire. As she looked deeply into Andrea's deep siena orbs, Andrea's tongue slowly crept out and danced across her upper lip as she twisted her hand and plunged her finger into Miranda's wet folds, pushing aside the wet cotton fabric.

"Fuuuuuck!" Miranda cried, releasing Andrea's nipple. The sudden movement of the younger woman's cold fingers inside her took Miranda's breath away as she panted, struggling to keep her eyes open and locked with Andrea's.

"Miranda, you're so gorgeous like this," she said as she pumped her fingers in and out of the older woman, paying special attention to her clitoris as she dragged her thumbnail across it. "Let go…come for me," Andrea whispered. With her free hand, she wrapped her arm around Miranda's waist and held her close as the woman arched her back, her hips meeting Andrea's thrusts in a colossal rhythm.

Miranda's moans were growing shrill as Andrea felt her muscles pulsing within. Tiny beads of sweat dripped from Miranda's brow, splashing against Andrea's bare chest. "Ooooooohhh!" Miranda cried out as Andrea curled her fingers inside, applying pressure to her sweet spot. She stilled her hand while waves crashed through the woman's body. Miranda collapsed against her, and Andrea slowly pulled her hand out, wrapping both arms tightly around the other woman. "God, Andrea, you're amazing," Miranda said, taking the younger woman's lips in her own, tangling her fingers in the younger woman's hair.

"As much as I would love to lie here forever with you," Andrea said. "You might have noticed the car stopped moving a while ago. We're home."

Andrea grinned at Miranda's dumbfounded expression as she peered out the window. "Shit! We've been…uh…like teenagers in the car in front of our house?!" Miranda quickly sat up and straightened her clothes. She pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling the dampness of the silk scarf tied around her head. "Oh," she sighed, sinking back into the seat, laughter creeping up within her, "This is so ridiculous!" she said.

"No, Miranda," Andrea said, "_You _are ridiculous, Miranda Priestly. And I love you, every bit of you." Andrea cinched the belt of her coat tightly around her and took Miranda's hand. "Let's go inside before Roy has a heart attack," she said, winking. Miranda smiled and followed her into the house.

Andrea went straight to the kitchen, fixing a light lunch of leftover turkey, brie, and spinach sandwiches. Andrea and Miranda ate, making small talk about the weather or the girls, as Miranda shared a few photos they had just messaged her.

"Lunch was wonderful," Miranda said, "But now,I think I'm going to go up and relax, maybe take a bath." She paused before adding, "Maybe you'll join me?"

Andrea smiled. "Yes, of course," she said, bending over and kissing Miranda as she took her plate away. "Let me just straighten up here and I'll be right upstairs."

Miranda nodded and went upstairs to draw a hot bath. Downstairs, Andrea quickly put the plates in the dishwasher and pulled out her her phone. "Hi Emily," she said.

"Andy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I need a favor. I need you to help me find a ring for Miranda. Something unique, that she doesn't have, but still classy and elegant, you know."

"Ooh, I like this favor, Emily said. As you may recall, I've known Miranda longer than you, and thus know exactly what she likes and doesn't. Now, which finger?"

"See, I knew you were the person to ask. Left hand, ring finger."

"Ri—ring finger?" Emily practically choked.

"Yes, Em. You cannot say a word, you understand that, right?"

"Uh, yes, I, I mean, is it a—I mean," Emily stammered.

"Calm down. Miranda and I have been, uh, _involved_, and she's still dealing emotionally with her diagnosis, and I just want to give her a sort of promise ring. Something with a lot of meaning. I want it ASAP."

Emily sighed. "Okay, okay, I can do this," she said. "I will have a few choices for you ready in an hour or so. Can I email to your Runway email?"

"Yes, that's perfect, thanks, Em!" Andrea said, hanging up the phone.

Emily turned and stared at the receiver, wondering what had happened. "At least she said 'thanks,'" Emily said aloud, hanging up the receiver in the cradle.

Andrea set her phone on the table and climbed upstairs. When she opened the bedroom door, Miranda was sitting on the chaise in the corner. As soon as she spotted Andrea, she shut her laptop and stood to meet the young woman. Andrea thought Miranda would have already been running water, but regardless, was happy Miranda was willing to spend time with her again. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that they both needed their share of 'me' time.

"I'll start the bath," Miranda said, heading into the bathroom. "Just wait here and get comfortable," she said, pulling the door slightly shut. Andrea undressed and put her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head before wrapping herself in her robe. "Okay, darling," Miranda called. Andrea stepped into the bathroom, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting in the bathroom. As before, there were candles lit throughout the room, but the lights were off, and Miranda was already in the bathtub, up to her neck in bubbles.

Andrea stepped out of her robe and walked closer. Miranda gestured for her to sit in front of her, and she carefully climbed into the bathtub, taking a deep breath as she leaned back into Miranda. Miranda casually wrapped her arms around the younger woman's waist. Andrea tilted her head, twisting slightly to kiss Miranda before quietly returning to their former position.

Laying in complete and perfect stillness, Andrea was truly happy. In the silence, she could almost hear Miranda's heartbeat. "Miranda, have you ever been with a woman?" she asked, breaking the silence after nearly ten minutes.

"Well that's a silly question, Andrea. I mean, you _are_ a woman, are you not?"

"No, Miranda, that's not what I meant!" Andrea said, chuckling. "Before me. Did you ever, you know, experiment?"

"Ohh. Hmm, funny, but I can't seem to remember much before you," Miranda said, softly tickling Andrea's abdomen. "To truthfully answer your question, yes, I once had a relationship with another woman. Catherine. I had just turned twenty-one, and she was the same age as my mother. We were both what you might call _lone wolves_. Terribly good at what we did, but neither of us socialized much with our respective social groups, and we soon found how much we had in common."

"Did you love her?" Andrea asked.

"Yes. Yes, but it was different. She and I were so incredibly intimate out of genuine fondness for each other. Five months after our first conversation and we were doing everything together, sharing each others' work, being each others' plus ones, and so forth. It was effortless, and I had never felt that kind of connection to another human being."

"What happened?"

Miranda sighed. "I kissed her. I wanted more. It was stupid," she said, "but when Catherine pushed me away, nothing was ever the same, and we gradually drifted apart over the next few months. I found myself making excuses to not see her or talk to her, and it was obvious she was doing the same, as she touted her crush on one of her male colleagues in front of me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Andrea said. "Did you ever wonder if things had gone differently?"

"Why are you asking, darling?"

"I'm just genuinely curious, that's all," Andrea said. "If it's too much, you don't have to tell me."

"No, no, it's nothing. I just haven't thought about that year of my life in quite some time. And of course I wondered what would have happened if we had continued, or if I didn't kiss her, or if she would have accepted. I drove myself crazy for years wondering 'what if'—but what we had was really something special, and over the years, there were times when I wanted so badly to pick up the phone and tell Catherine something, but, well, I never did."

"That's kind of bittersweet."

"Yes. I do think it was quite a formative experience. I learned a lot about myself, namely that I was capable of loving another woman, but it also taught me to be highly selective with my trust. What about you, Andrea? I don't know too much about your life, except for that cook you were dating when you first started."

"Oh, Nate? Yeah, he was one of those high school sweetheart things. I think he thought we were going to get married, but towards the end, I only looked at him as a friend."

"Did you ever have a relationship with a woman?"

"No. Never. It took me a long time to understand my feelings for you."

"So," Miranda said, "you're mine and only mine?" She slowly slid her hands up, cupping Andrea's breasts as she began to nuzzle her neck.

"Oh god…yes," Andrea moaned. "I'm all yours, Miranda."

TBC…..


	11. Chapter 11

On Monday, Andrea arranged for Emily to make a special delivery to the townhouse, bringing them some new samples and a small little box Andrea requested. Miranda was in the den on her laptop when Emily let herself in, and Andrea ran to greet her, taking the clothes directly upstairs to the bedroom, along with the small ring box, while Emily showed Miranda the most recent copy of the Book, asking her opinions on a few of the pages.

Overall, Miranda was impressed at how her staff had been able to handle things in her absence. The magazine did not suffer, as she suspected. Hearing Andrea begin coming down the stairs, Emily quickly flipped to the last page of the Book, showing Miranda two images pasted into the blank pages at the end. Pointing at the one on the left, Emily couldn't help but smile, seeing how Miranda's featured softened at this makeshift spread. Emily nodded and closed the Book, taking it from Miranda just as Andrea entered.

"Was everything suitable?" Emily asked Andrea.

"Yes, I looked at most of it, and those were the pants I was talking about. They're perfect. Thank you," she said, grinning.

"Pants, Andrea?" Miranda asked.

"Yeah, those ultra-wide leg Alice + Olivia high-waisted black pants? I wanted to wear them on Wednesday," Andrea said.

"Oh," Miranda said, nodding, realizing that she had to go for her infusion on Wednesday, and that was apparently how they were planning their outings: around therapy, treatment, and doctors.

After Emily left, Miranda noticed Andrea's mood had considerably lifted. "Darling, I'm sorry for keeping you here like this," she said. "Why don't you work from _Runway_ a few days a week? Or I don't know, go out and about."

"What? Where did this come from?" Andrea asked, honestly confused.

"I see how happy it made you to see Emily. We both shouldn't have to sit around here waiting for my next doctor appointment. Or for my hair to grow out."

Andrea smiled. Miranda thought she was happy because of Emily. Now it was making sense. "No, I like staying here. Emily is kind of a bitch to work with, as I'm sure you're aware. I just, uh, really liked those pants she brought me," Andrea said. "Wait, are you seriously staying in here until your hair grows back?!"

"Yes, of course," Miranda said matter-of-factly.

"Oh god, Miranda, when will you realize how gorgeous you look with the peach fuzz?"

"Be serious! Only African women can get away with looking gorgeous without hair, or with too much hair for that matter."

"Miranda! Can't you just say you did it for a charity or something? Or I mean, you don't have to say anything. You're Miranda Priestly."

"Let's not talk about this," Miranda said, adjusting her scarf and re-opening her laptop.

"Okay. I get the hint. I'll go upstairs and do something with my 'me' time while you sit here with yours," she said, smiling as she walked up the stairs, heading to the guest room to further examine the ring. Miranda's jeweler had been working on a custom 5-ct round ruby solitaire with 2-cts of pave set diamonds along the platinum band, and Andrea and Emily both thought it was perfect for Miranda. She owned many diamonds, as well as several items of estate jewelry from opals to sapphires. Emily knew that the one stone Miranda refused was a ruby.

When Stephen proposed to Miranda, Emily was just starting her tenure at _Runway_, and she had been in the office when he proposed—_at the office. _Not only was Miranda furious that he couldn't even try to come up with a romantic proposal, but the ring was a 6-ct heart-shaped diamond, which Miranda swiftly threw out the office door the minute he tried to put it on her hand. Emily remembered Miranda telling Stephen that she would never wear her heart on her hand like a teenager, and on top of that, why would she want to admit to an ice-white heart. Upon hearing that, Andrea knew Miranda would like this. As she polished the platinum band, she decided she couldn't wait to give it to Miranda, that she would wait until dinner tomorrow, though she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep just thinking of it tucked away in that drawer.

Downstairs, as soon as Miranda heard Andrea shut the door to the guest room, she jumped up and practically ran to the table with the flowers in the foyer. There was a small in-line drawer there, which was typically kept empty, but unbeknownst to Andrea, Emily slipped a small box inside the drawer on her way out.

Opening the drawer, Miranda took the box and carried it with her to the den. Inside, a 4-ct solitaire round diamond, in a dual platinum band. Around the band on each side were pave-set diamonds, on crisscrossing bands. It was simple and elegant, and Miranda couldn't help but think of what it would look like on Andrea's finger.

She tucked the box into her sweater pocket and carried her laptop and cords in front of her, hiding the small box. Once upstairs, she tucked it away in the safe inside her closet, realizing that diamond was worth almost the entirety of her wardrobe at the moment.

"Miranda?" Andrea called. "Are you upstairs now?"

"Yes, in here," she said. "I'm inspecting these A+O pants you like so much. They will look really good with this blouse," she said, pairing the blouse with the pants and stepping back to get a look. "But you need a platform with these, darling. And a pendant—do you have a pendant?"

Andrea crept up behind Miranda and wrapped her arms around her, hanging the clothes back in the closet. "It's nice to see you back in fashion-editor-mode, but I kind of miss cuddling," Andrea said, nuzzling her neck.

Miranda turned around in her arms and Andrea swiftly picked her up, carrying her the short distance to the bed, where she softly set her down and crawled up after her.

"Sometimes I feel like this has _got_ to be a dream, you know? Like I'm suddenly going to wake up and you won't be mine," Miranda said, curling up alongside Andrea's body.

"I do know that feeling," she replied. "But I promise you—I—" Andrea paused. "Wait one minute, ok?" she said, pulling herself away from Miranda's arms as she climbed off the bed and ran to the guest bedroom. Miranda was curious why Andrea left so suddenly. Was she feeling okay?

"Okay, sorry," Andrea said, coming back to take her place beside Miranda.

"What's wrong?" Miranda asked.

"Oh, uh, I had something in my eye," Andrea said. Miranda looked at her with an arched eyebrow. She clearly did not buy Andrea's lame excuse, but right now, Andrea didn't care. "Okay, so you said you feel like you're going to wake up and that I won't be yours… well, Miranda, I want you to know that you're not dreaming," she said, pulling a small box out from behind her. "I am yours, and I will always be yours. Forever. Open it," she said, handing Miranda the box.

Miranda sat up, gasping as she opened the box, revealing the ruby ring. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked back up at Andrea, her mouth moving but no words coming out. Andrea smiled and took the box from Miranda's hands, taking the ring out. "Yours. Forever." Andrea said, showing Miranda the inscription.

Miranda reached up to cover her mouth with her right hand and nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as Andrea slipped the ring on her finger. "I love you," Miranda said, taking Andrea's face in her hands and kissing her blindly, sloppily, passionately.

They settled back into their previous position, Miranda curled tightly along Andrea's side, and Miranda just held her hand out, mesmerized by the ring on her finger. "Andrea," she said, finally finding her voice, "This is exquisite. It's so perfect. I will never take this off."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, smiling. "I wanted to show you my commitment, something to remind you that I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."

"Thank you," she said. "I love it—but why ruby?"

"Well, I saw a few options, and something about the ruby was just so real. It's blood, it's life, it's passion, it's fire…it is love."

"I've always thought that, too," Miranda said, kissing Andrea softly. "Okay, I'll be right back," she said, quickly stealing away to the closet and coming back with an identical small black box. "So," she began, climbing up onto the bed, "I guess this is moot now, but, here." Miranda handed Andrea the box, watching her expression as she opened it.

"Oh my god!" Andrea exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. "Miranda, this is too much!" she said through her tears.

"Read it," she said, urging Andrea to take it out of the box. "Be mine," she said. "Oh Miranda, I am yours," she cried, wrapping her arms around Miranda tightly and kissing her. Miranda slipped it onto Andrea's finger and they both stared down at the glistening diamond. "This is so beautiful," she whispered.

"For you," Miranda whispered back, "only beautiful things."

The two women rested comfortably, limbs intertwined. "Andrea, if it wasn't clear before, I want you to move in. This is our home now—I can't bear thinking of this place without your presence here."

"But what about Caroline & Cassidy?" Andrea asked.

"I've been texting them, and they actually like the idea, which is more than I could have hoped for."

"Okay, yes. I think all of my stuff is here anyway, so that shouldn't be too hard," Andrea said with a smile. "And I can tell my landlord—"

"No—" Miranda said. "I was thinking that we could keep your place, too. It could be either somewhere we could go for privacy when the girls are around, or I mean I could even rent it out to my new assistant."

"Wait," Andrea said, confused. "You _own_ my apartment now?"

"Well, yes. It was silly to pay that exorbitant rent. I made an offer to your landlord, and he graciously accepted. And with it, he renovated the elevator, repainted, laid new carpet in the hallway and stairwells, and installed a working buzzer system."

"Wow, um, you must have forgotten to tell me that," Andrea said.

"Darling, don't be upset. I was quite sure you were never going back there unless it was with me, so I didn't think you'd mind. I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she said, biting her lip and looking down at her ring.

"It's okay," Andrea said. "You were right—I didn't plan on going back, but I did have a lot of memories there, so maybe just a heads-up next time."

"Of course, darling."

"Okay, so what is this about your new assistant?" Andrea asked.

"Well, if I'm officially living and sleeping with you, it would be highly unprofessional for us both if you still worked for me, as you implied the other day at Grace's. So, I thought I'd leave it up to you: you can remain my assistant and then this can't happen," Miranda said, frowning. "Alternatively, we can find you another position at _Runway_, basically anything you want, or you can take a position elsewhere, or you really don't even have to work if you don't want to."

Andrea took a deep breath. "Wow, so I definitely don't want to remain your assistant with those conditions. But I think this could be a good opportunity for me to get into journalism like I originally wanted."

"Would you like me to fire one of our fashion writers? Or maybe the Life & Culture editor?" Miranda asked with a grin.

"No! Don't fire people for me," Andrea huffed.

"Darling, I'm sure I can find a very good reason from the past year to fire anyone on our payroll, so you really do have your pick."

"I don't want that, though. Everyone will know you got me the job, and…just no."

"Okay," Miranda said. "I'm embarrassed that I don't know what you've really been up to lately, but I presume you've been writing at least a little since you came to New York. If you can put a portfolio together, you can always take some time to do freelance work. I know it's not much, but it would give you the opportunity to feel out different publications before you really make a commitment."

"But Miranda, I wouldn't make enough money doing that."

"Darling," she said, taking Andrea's face in her palms, "you're mine. I've worked hard, and I want those I love to be happy, not to have to struggle." She kissed Andrea softly on the lips. "I know you are an extremely hard worker, and whatever you decide to do, I respect that."

"You won't think I'm just using you as my sugar momma?"

"Oh god, did you have to call me that?" Miranda said, rolling her eyes. "No, darling, I know you're not interested in my money…and honestly, even if you were, I wouldn't care, because I would be nothing without you, and the girls of course already have trusts."

"Okay," Andrea said after several minutes of silence. "It's settled. I'll start working on my freelance career. When do I start?"

"Well, I say you can start right now, but let's let Irv keep you on payroll for a few more months as long as he's not asking questions."

Andrea smiled and wrapped her arms around the woman, burying her head in Miranda's neck as she fell asleep.

. . . . . three months later . . . . .

Miranda was finished with her infusions, and she and Andrea had done a few additional sessions with Dr Grace, but they proved unnecessary beyond the first one. The herceptin affected her a little more than she had originally thought it would, which meant she had to use caution with any aerobic activity because of the strain on her heart. Things like climbing a flight of stairs or standing for a long amount of time made her lose her breath very easily. She and Andrea began doing yoga and pilates three times a week in the home to help maintain Miranda's strength and keep her ejection fracture at a healthy percent. But ultimately, this meant that she and Andrea had to put their sex life on pause for a few weeks while she was doing infusions.

While Miranda worried that it would affect Andrea, she soon learned that they were just as content wrapped in each others arms. On occasion, Miranda would make love to Andrea, but Andrea was so concerned with Miranda's heart that she couldn't appreciate it as much as she would have liked to.

The girls had been coming to visit about once every two weeks, and it was wonderful to see them. They spent Thanksgiving at James & Tess's house with the girls, and Miranda kept the girls for Christmas while James & Tess visited her family in Seattle. The girls took very warmly to Andrea, and it was clear how much they enjoyed seeing their mother happy and relaxed. For the first time in probably her whole life, Miranda felt like she had a family.

Also, perhaps the most exciting event of the past twelve weeks was that Miranda's hair began growing back very quickly—all over. Her eyebrows and eyelashes were fully grown, and she noticed she was needing to shave her legs several times a week, too. They made a few jokes when her hair was at the Jamie Lee Curtis stage, but as time passed, it grew longer and Miranda's signature lock returned. Miranda stopped wearing the silk scarves as well.

They were all still shocked that the tabloids had never managed to find anything out. Or perhaps, they really did have a heart and knew when to push and when not to. Either way, for once in the past year, Miranda felt comfortable enough to shrug it off even if they did post a photo of her at this point. Her skin was brighter, a natural glow pushing away that cancer-grey tone, her hair was shorter but normal-looking, and she had even put on a bit of weight, as her appetite was no longer affected by the intense medications. And, on top of everything, she was blissfully happy, and it truly radiated from her in an involuntary manner.

"Miranda, it's supposed to be 58º F today," Andrea said as she read the newspaper, excited for the unseasonably warm January day. "Let's go to the park or something," she suggested.

"Yes, or we can sit up on the roof for a bit," Miranda said.

"The roof?"

"Yes, the rooftop patio," she clarified.

"You have a rooftop patio, Miranda? How did I not know about this?" Andrea asked.

"_We, _darling. _We _have a rooftop patio. I don't know how you never saw the stairs on the fifth floor."

"I don't think I've ever even _been_ on the fifth floor, jeez!" Andrea said.

"Well, mi cassia es su casa, Andrea, so explore away. Actually, you might like to make the space on the fifth floor your office. There is a lovely view of the park, and the skylight over the desk makes it much brighter than the rest of the house."

Andrea pulled her sweater on and handed Miranda her wool wrap as they climbed the stairs. "Wow," Andrea said, looking out the window on the fifth floor. "This is amazing. Don't you use it for anything?"

"It used to be Stephen's office, but in all honesty, I don't think he ever used it. I have been planning to redecorate and get new furniture, but, well, I've been preoccupied," she said. "Now, you can pick everything out yourself if you'd like."

"I would really like to bring my desk from my apartment—it was my grandmother's, and I know it needs to be refurbished, but maybe we can do that, too?" she asked.

"Andrea, please, you don't have to ask me. I happen to think that's a wonderful idea, but even if I didn't, I'm not going to stop you, okay?" Miranda said.

Andrea nodded and followed Miranda up the last flight of stairs to the rooftop. In one corner, there were several large stone blocks arranged in a circle around a portable fireplace. At the other end, there was a large pergola with a grill and bar underneath, along with a table and chairs nearby. Andrea watched as Miranda reached into a storage chest alongside the doorway opening and pulled out what looked like two cushions for chaise loungers. Miranda tossed them towards the corner and gestured for Andrea to join her.

She looked around before positioning both cushions together, then laid down on the cushion, urging Andrea to join her. "I love this spot," Miranda said, "because when you look up at the sky, there is nothing to block your view—no trees, no tall buildings, no cars. It's just you and the sky."

Andrea joined her and agreed, it was quite spectacular. After a few moments of sky-gazing, Andrea turned on her side to face Miranda. "So I know we only mentioned this once," she said, "and either way, it's not a big deal to me, but I was just thinking how beautiful it would be to have a small ceremony up here. You know, just us and a few close friends."

Miranda smiled and looked at Andrea. "Yes. Let's do it."

"Really? Just like that?"

"We are wearing over $1 million in our rings, I think we can use a little party to show them off," Miranda said. "Plus," she said, "if it were legal, I would have asked you to marry me months ago. You do know, that, right?"

Andrea nodded. "I would have asked you, too. Don't worry, I wasn't worried about that. I just—I mean, are you ready for others to find out about us?"

"Absolutely!" Miranda said. "Oh god, did you think I was trying to hide this—that I was worried about what people would think?!"

"Well, I mean, I know you were very insistent about it during your treatment, but I didn't know if this was different," Andrea said.

"Darling, I am not trying to hide anymore, not this. Irv already knows, and you're not on _Runway_ payroll anymore. I will, I don't know, take an ad out in _Runway_ proclaiming my love. Or I'll dramatically kiss you in Times Square or something. Whatever you want," she said.

"Miranda, I love you. And while I'm kind of intrigued by you taking out an ad in your own magazine, I think I'll just enjoy this paparazzi-free time."

"Yes, it's been wonderful hasn't it?" Miranda mused. "I can't believe I'm going back to work in two weeks. Or that I took 365 days off and don't miss it." She sighed. "I think the first week will be the hardest," she said, "because I'll be missing you."

"I will miss you, too," Andrea said, "but I will be texting you and emailing you all day, so there's that."

Miranda just shook her head. "You know that living-in-a-dream sensation?"

"Back again?" Andrea asked. Miranda nodded and Andrea reached over to squeeze her hand, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Not a dream," she said, deepening her kiss, "I'm yours."

"Yes," she said. "You're mine."

The End.

* * *

A/N: Epilogue to follow in a few days. Thank you again — I really can't say enough thanks — for the support, reviews, PMs, follows, & whatnot. As a writer, I am eternally grateful for the motivation, and I'm also generally grateful that you actually like this story. I already have the epilogue outlined, but if there's something that stands out to you that really needs to be tied up or anything, drop me a note! xx


	12. Epilogue

. . . . . . . . . . EPILOGUE . . . . . . . . .

"Andy! Are you coming or what?" Cassidy shouted from the front door.

"Yes, yes, I'm right here," Andrea said as she climbed down the stairs. "Let's go," she said, grabbing the keys and heading out the door.

"Are you nervous?" Cassidy asked, noticing the way Andrea was clutching the steering wheel.

"About tonight? No," she said, smiling, "but what if I don't like the dress?"

"Andy, come on. You know it only really matters what Mom thinks of it. And has Donatella ever failed her?"

"No, you're right," she said. "I just can't believe it's already June 26. I mean—I'm getting married today!"

"Oh jeez," Cassidy said, "I will be glad when all this drama is over."

"Sweetie, when you get married someday, you have my word that I will not whine as much as you."

Andrea parked the car on the street in front of Donatella's studio, holding her breath as Cassidy led the way upstairs.

"Oh my, Cassidy? You've grown so much since I last saw you," Donatella said, wrapping her arms around the eleven-year-old.

"You're still coming tonight, right?" Cassidy asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, looking from the young girl to the brunette. "Andrea," she said, "I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Andrea shyly nodded, and followed the woman deeper into the loft. "Oh my god, that's gorgeous," Andrea gasped.

"I hoped you would like it," Donatella said, taking the white dress from the hanger and handing it to Andrea. "It should fit like a glove, but let's just make sure," she said. "Go try it on."

Andrea stepped around a small screen and stepped into the delicate white dress. It was just above the knee, a deep v-neck in the front and back. The fabric was light and crisp, accented with a very thin strip of embroidery at the waist. Simple, casual, and elegant, she thought.

As soon as she stepped out, she could tell from the look on Cassidy's face that Miranda would enjoy the dress. As Donatella placed the dress in a garment bag, Andrea stood waiting with Cassidy in silence, her mind overwhelmed with eagerness and anxiety.

Just then, Andrea's phone beeped—a text message from Miranda: _I love you. xo_

Andrea smiled, remembering that Miranda was also having her final fitting that afternoon at _Runway. _They decided to make the ceremony a relatively casual affair, what Miranda called "summer cocktail attire." Andrea couldn't remember how they decided to keep their dresses secret from each other, but that just heightened her desire to see Miranda's reaction. "_Funny, I was thinking the same thing. I can't wait to see you. xo" _Andrea quickly texted back.

"Thank you so much," Andrea said, air kissing Donatella as she took the garment bag from her. "We will see you later tonight." Andrea smiled, thinking about the small ceremony they had planned. Caroline and Tess were decorating the staircase and the roof with flowers—all pure white roses—and strands of light, while Wolfgang had taken over the kitchen, preparing a summery picnic-like fare. They had invited thirty people in all: only those friends and family members near and dear to the couple.

When they returned to the townhouse, Cassidy took the dress up to her bedroom, while Andrea went through the mail. The only people on their guest list who hadn't responded were Andrea's parents and Andrea's sister. She knew better than to expect a response, but still, some tiny part of her thought her mom would at least call her—if not to congratulate her, to tell her she disapproved—but there was nothing.

Andrea was jolted from her quietude when the doorbell rang—Aiysha had arrived to do her hair and makeup. "Hey Aiysha," Andrea said. "I guess I lost track of time."

"You'd better start getting ready, Andy. Miranda will be here in an hour!" she said.

"Oh shit!" Andrea said, quickly following Aiysha upstairs to get started. In forty-five minutes, Andrea's hair was falling down her back in loose waves, her makeup impeccable.

"Time for the dress," Aiysha said. "Do you need any help with it?"

"No, it's simple. Thank you so much, Aiysha," she said.

"Not a problem. You know, I'm really happy for you and Miranda. It's amazing to see the change in her."

"Thanks. She is amazing and I want nothing more than to make her happy."

"Have fun tonight," she said with a wink, slipping out the door.

Andrea smiled and carefully stepped into the dress Cassidy had hung for her. "You look beautiful," Cassidy said, leaning against the doorframe. Andrea quickly turned towards the redhead.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Do you know where my shoes are?"

"Oh, yeah. I put them in here—" she said as she dug through the closet, returning with the pair of white heeled Manolo Blahnik heeled gladiator sandals.

"Think you can help me get these on?" Andrea asked. Each sandal had sixteen separate ties running up to the knee, and somehow, Andrea knew her hands were not steady enough at the moment to tie the delicate laces.

As Cassidy was finishing the last of the laces, they heard Miranda and her crew arrive downstairs. "Okay, I'll go distract Mom for a few minutes if you want to go wait upstairs," Cassidy said.

"Thanks, sweetie," Andrea said. Guests would be arriving in twenty minutes, and she knew that it would only take minutes for Miranda to put on her dress. She slipped into the bathroom and with a tube of red lipstick, traced out a "I 3 you" before climbing the stairs to see how everything was going upstairs.

Tess and Caroline were already dressed, and she was shocked by how beautiful the roof looked. They had installed a temporary lattice-like fence around the edge of the roof, providing them with added privacy as well as another place to hang flowers and lights.

"So, what do you think?" Caroline asked.

"I think it looks perfect. Thank you so much," she said, hugging the young girl. "But I came to tell you your mom is here, and she might need some help getting her dress on."

"Ooh! Awesome, thanks!" she said, running downstairs.

"You look gorgeous, Andrea," Tess said.

"Oh, thanks," she said.

"Are you nervous?" Tess asked.

"You know, not about the ceremony. I tried writing out vows, but it was just stressing me out. I think I'm just anxious because I haven't really talked to Miranda today."

"Aw, that's cute," Tess said. "So tonight, the girls can come home with us, and we'll make sure the house is locked up and cleaned before you two get back."

Andrea sighed. "God, I don't even know where we're going," she said. "Miranda wouldn't tell me, except to say that I didn't have to worry about anything."

"You'll enjoy it."

Suddenly, music began drifting through the speakers on the roof. Andrea smiled. She and Miranda picked out the playlist of jazz standards and classic instrumentals.

"Hey Andrea," Serena said, giving her a hug. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks! Is anyone here yet?" Andrea asked.

"Nigel and Emily and I just got here. I think I saw Donatella's driver circling the block, too," she said as she took her place behind the bar. Serena had offered her bartending skills for the evening, knowing Miranda only wanted trusted friends and colleagues involved in their ceremony.

"Is Patrick here yet? I was hoping he could get some shots of the place before everyone else gets here."

"Um, I think he's doing some photos while Miranda is getting ready. I'll text Em to send him up here," she said. "Here, relax," Serena said, handing her a stem of Veuve Clicquot Rose champagne, "you're committing to the love of your life today. You have absolutely nothing to be nervous about."

"Ha!" Andrea said, taking the glass and sipping as she paced around. "Did Nigel remmed—"

"The rings?" she said, "Yes. He has them."

In her room, Miranda was sitting at her vanity in her white dress, a long, sleek, flowing dress with a deep v-neck in the front, reaching mid-torso, the back cascading dangerously low. The click-click of the camera pulled her out of her thoughts and to the present.

"Patrick. I didn't hear you come in."

"You weren't meant to. You look stunning, Miranda."

"Thank you," she said, staring up at the mirror.

"What are you looking at?" Patrick asked. He could tell she wasn't looking at her own reflection, but from his position at the doorway, he couldn't see Andrea's handwritten message in rouge lip color.

"That," she said, pointing to the words. Patrick stepped closer and quickly found a the right angle, to capture Miranda's gaze whilst hiding himself from the reflective photo.

"Miranda!" Nigel called, "Time to head upstairs. You mustn't be late for your own ceremony!"

Miranda gathered herself and followed after Nigel. "Is everyone here?" she asked.

"Yes. And before you ask," he said, putting his hand up, "we still haven't heard from Six's family."

Miranda pursed her lips. She knew how hard it had been for Andrea to tell her family about their relationship, but she eventually did, sending them a letter along with an invitation to the ceremony.

As they stepped onto the patio, Miranda couldn't help but smile at how her patio was transformed into an intimate and romantic outdoor venue. The sun was beginning to set, and the lighting could not be more perfect.

Andrea was chatting with Emily and James when she suddenly felt Miranda's presence behind her. Spinning around, she locked eyes with the editor.

"Hello, darling," Miranda said sweetly.

"Miranda," Andrea exhaled.

"Are you ready?" Miranda asked, softly taking Andrea's hands. Andrea nodded while Serena and Emily swiftly arranged the crowd in a circle around the women.

"Hello everyone," Miranda said, not taking her eyes off of Andrea. "I think you know why we're here tonight. Andrea and I are very excited to share this moment with all of you."

"And," Andrea continued, seamlessly picking up where Miranda left off, "even though the state of New York is unwilling to recognize our relationship as a marriage, we want to make our commitment to each other known, here, in front of our closest friends and family. Thank you—each and every one of you—for being here and supporting us."

"Andrea," Miranda interrupted, taking the platinum and diamond band from from Nigel's hand and slipping it onto Andrea's finger. "You have been my assistant, my nurse, my friend, my lover…today I can finally call you my wife, my partner. Let this ring be a symbol of my love and commitment to you and to our future together. You have changed my life and made me a better person—a better editor, as I'm sure my staff will agree, and a better mother to my beautiful daughters. I trust you completely. More than anything, I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together. I love you so very much."

Andrea's eyes were filled with tears, but she took a deep breath, blinking a few times before taking the identical diamond band from Nigel's hand and placing it on Miranda's finger. "This ring, Miranda, is my promise to you—to love you, to cherish you, to do everything in my power to make you happy for all the days of our lives. You have given me a family," she said, looking over at Caroline and Cassidy, "and a home and I have never felt more loved than I do right here, with you. The future will always be uncertain, but with you at my side, I feel safe, and even a little invincible. Miranda, I love you—forever—with all my heart."

"Cheers," Nigel said, raising his glass, "to Miranda and Andy!" While they said their vows, Serena had ensured everyone in the room had a glass of champagne, or in the girls' case, sparkling juice. While their guests clinked glasses and drank on their behalf, Miranda pressed her hand to Andrea's cheek, sliding it around her neck to pull her closer for a kiss.

As their lips met, sparks flew through Miranda's body and she moaned into Andrea's mouth. The clinking glasses brought the couple back to the present, where they parted, both slightly flushed. Andrea took the woman's hand as she laid her head on Andrea's shoulder, smiling broadly as her eyes scanned the crowd. This, she thought, was true happiness.

Several hours and many bottles of champagne later, Roy stepped over and whispered something to Miranda before heading downstairs.

"What's wrong?" Andrea asked.

"Nothing, darling. It's time for us to go," she said with a smirk. "And before you even ask, I will not tell you anything."

Andrea rolled her eyes and they both made their way through their friends, thanking everyone for being there.

"You know," Andrea said as they made their way inside the house, "I would have never guessed that Donatella, Miuccia, and Patrick would get along so well. They should do a spread together," she said.

"Mm-hmm, I'll have to remember that," Miranda said, tugging Andrea downstairs. "You know, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight."

"Miranda, my heart has been pounding out of my chest since I saw you, wanting to touch you, run my hands along your exposed skin."

"All in good time," Miranda said with a wink. Once in the towncar, Miranda turned and looked at Andrea. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Of course—what?"

"Have you heard from your family?"

"Oh," Andrea said, sinking back into the seat and looking out the window. "No. But it doesn't matter. You're my family now."

"Darling, but it does matter. I don't want to keep you from them—like it or not, they're family. What can I do to help? Do you thing if we went to visit your mother, perhaps?" she said.

"I don't know if that would help," Andrea said. "Can we not talk about this tonight," she said.

"Okay, okay, but I'm in this with you, Andrea. _We_ will fix this," Miranda said.

The towncar came to a stop outside Andrea's former apartment, where Miranda had arranged to have the unit prepared with candles and rose petals. After hours of sharing their love with one another, Miranda kissed Andrea on the cheek and crawled out of bed to grab her iPad off the dresser. "This," she said to Andrea as she navigated to the RunwayMagazine-dot-com homepage, "is my wedding present to you," she said, showing Andrea the screen.

Andrea watched as four stunning black and white photos of the couple flashed across the screen—Miranda looking into the mirror, Andrea slipping a ring onto Miranda's finger, the two kissing, and Miranda leaning her head on Andrea's shoulder. "Miranda, are these…tonight…Patrick's?"

Miranda nodded. "Read further down," she said.

Andrea scrolled down below the photos and read the words printed plainly across the page:

_Today, I embark upon a new chapter with my wife Andrea. My commitment to Runway and to all of our readers will not falter. For many years, this magazine has been my life, but now I share my life with my partner, and I know that my heart is big enough for them both. With the ongoing love and support of Andrea, my commitment to the magazine is only strengthened. I trust that the path I've followed in my personal life will help me to embark upon a new journey with you, and with our team of talented editors, writers, and designers without whose dedication and hard work, the past year would not have been a success. To a new era… M. P. _

Tears streamed down Andrea's face as she read and reread the words.

"Andrea," Miranda said, moving the iPad to the side table, "I can't begin to imagine life without you. Will you promise me, darling, that even when I'm old and senile, you won't leave my side until after I'm gone?"

"Oh god, Miranda, don't talk like that," Andrea said, throwing her arms around the woman. "I will never leave you…ever. If something happens, I will be here for the girls, but I would never leave. I, too, cannot picture my life without you. Thank you," she continued, "for my gift. It's beautiful, and I know how much that means to you to share your private life."

Miranda smiled against Andrea's neck. "It will be printed in our next issue, too," she murmured. "So that spread with Miuccia, Donatella and Patrick that you were talking about, it's going to be us, darling."

Andrea smiled and kissed her wife. "You make me happier each and every day," she said. "My gift to you doesn't even compare anymore. It's at the townhouse, but I have a photo on my phone," she said, reaching over to grab her phone from the table. "Here," she showed Miranda the phone, "I had this blown up and framed for our house."

Miranda had to reach over to the bedside table to put her glasses on before looking at the photo of two hands interlocking. "Andrea, this is beautiful. When was this taken?"

"Over a year ago, during the biopsy at Dr Barry's office," Andrea said, hoping Miranda would not be upset.

"How did you—" she asked in disbelief, studying the photo.

"There are cameras in every operating room, and Liz was able to provide me with a few minutes of footage."

"Did anyone see it?" Miranda asked.

"Just me…and Tess."

"What?"

"Tess is a remarkable videographer, if you didn't know. She was able to freeze the video and edit the capture."

"Andrea, I love it. Thank you," she said, sighing a little bit of relief knowing that no one else saw the images of her from that frightening day. "And I love _you._"

"I love you, too, Miranda."


End file.
